


Say It

by scavengertrash



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alpha Ben Solo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Begging, Ben Solo Cries During Sex, Blackmail, Body Horror, Body Worship, Breeding, Bukkake, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Choking, Cock Worship, Come Eating, Come Marking, Cuckolding, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dominant Kylo Ren, Dry Humping, Dubious Consent, Edgeplay, F/M, Face-Fucking, First Time, Force Bond (Star Wars), Forced Nudity, Formalwear, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Gags, Grooming, Group Sex, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Inappropriate Use of Lightsabers, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Incest, Intercrural Sex, It's only referenced though??, Jedi Ben Solo, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, Knotting, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Marking, Marriage, Masochism, Master/Slave, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Minor Finn/Rose Tico, Minor Poe Dameron/Finn, Minor Poe Dameron/Rey, Minor Rey/Armitage Hux, Minor Reylux, Mutual Masturbation, Necrophilia, Nipple Play, Object Insertion, Omega Rey, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Oviposition, Padawan Rey, Painful Sex, Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Public Sex, Redeemed Ben Solo, Sadism, Self-Harm, Semi-Public Sex, Shibari, Size Kink, Snuff, Spanking, Spitroasting, Teacher-Student Relationship, Threesome - F/M/M, Underage Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Rey, Watersports, Weapons Kink, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-07-24 10:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 50,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16173191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scavengertrash/pseuds/scavengertrash
Summary: A collection of short, smutty one-shots (or two- or three- shots) that don't fit into the context of a larger narrative or feel like whole pieces.Currently: Made concubine to Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Rey seizes upon the one chance she has to have control over herself in the First Order when Hux comes by one day.





	1. Say It

**Author's Note:**

> I wound up deciding I want my other Kinktober fill to be a throughline of some kind that I follow up with specific things in that premise, so I'm moving some of my others here instead of posting them as multiple chapters to 'Like a Spinebarrel.' Subscribe to this fic if you want to see more of the scattered Kinktober prompt fills that don't fit into any of my other posted works.
> 
> Also: there's a brief reference to the possibility of choking, but it's not really featured in the fic. It's just in the tags as a heads up for people who might be sensitive to mentions of it.

Rey had always thought she was patient, staring up at the clear sky over Jakku, waiting fifteen years for a ship to return. She'd been patient with her parents, more patient than they deserved; she'd been patient with Luke, confronting him bluntly to tear away his every excuse, onet by one; and she'd been patient with Ben, accepting that he'd needed time, always more time, to surrender his fears.

But scarcity had subdued her appetite; she didn't dare want or grow needy when she had never known better.

When Ben arrived that day, she forgot everything she'd ever known about patience.

He was haggard and bleeding and the war was not over, but the moment they were alone in the medical bay, her mouth had found his, and then her thighs had caged his, and she was shuddering out labored breaths into his mouth, swallowing her groans now that she had to quiet her pleasure for the first time in her life.

They stripped each other slowly — Ben was already half dressed and even then, mostly in bandages, but he took his time in removing Rey's clothes. She had to help him along, sliding off to shuck off her pants and underwear finally, leaving her bare before him.

Only then did he, gaping, ask the stupidest question she'd ever heard: "What do you want?"

"I thought I made that pretty clear."

Something crested and broke in his expression, and he smothered frustration, dejected by the bluntness of it. Rey tilted her head as she came to settle back into his lap. Then she moved his hands to her hips.

"Specifically," he said, and under the curtain of his hair, she thought she saw ears like satellite dishes turning pink with embarrassment. " _How_ do you want it? This may be our only chance to—"

Rey didn't want to hear that. She crushed her lips to his mouth, scaring off the specter of his potential exile or execution. He didn't dare bring it up again after that. They both knew what this was going to be.

(Personally, she chose to be the optimist: if they were going to kill him, they probably wouldn't have bothered to provide him medical care.)

Her hands sought his, drawing them to her hips, holding her steady as she rocked against him, the glide of her damp folds against him insinuating a friction that they had not yet allowed. She wanted to take him straight in, but feeling his girth against her cunt made her think otherwise. Even without doing this before, she had the good sense to wonder just how _that_ would fit.

She had only just begun to move when his grip forced her to a halt. Breaking away, Rey puzzled over his expression. His eyes were wide and dark, pupils dilated in a way that made him look hungry, ragged around the edges, and his lips were flushed and parted, drawing labored breaths. But he'd stopped her.

"What—"

"Say it." There was something insistent there. He struggled against his wounds to shift them over, to lay her beneath him on his cot. Dark eyes dragged over her body and she felt something swell and bloom in her chest — approval, perhaps, to salve the wound of his temporary rejection. Softly but effusively, he murmured, "Tell me what you want."

The bond bloomed between them with his request, which had surrendered his walls just as much as it had prodded hers, bringing them down. They were Ben and Rey again and they weren't alone. She marveled up at him, at the way his hair hung in his face, at the way his lips openly trembled with anticipation and with trepidation. He could not imagine she would accept him again, after everything.

"You," she breathed, made sheepish in the face of his implict offer to give her what they'd both been denied all this time. She could count on Ben for this, as ever: he would heal himself by providing for her what he'd never had. But soft touches and vague professions could not be enough for him when he'd been despised for so long. She brushed her hand along the side of his face, her understanding soothing him. "Always you."

"I don't know —"

Oh. _Oh._ Rey's eyes widened briefly, but no. Of course he'd never — He was just like her.

"Here." She took one of his hands, cradling it to her face, dragging it down her neck. She hesitated with his thumb wrapped around her windpipe, and she could feel the muscles of his abdomen twitch. She smiled and said, "Next time."

His hand took up the slack from there, splayed palm exploring her chest. She rolled her head back and crooned, shifting and writhing. She did not quiet her hunger now; Jakku had been a desolate place, with no one for miles to hear her private efforts to console herself. She had not learned to keep her voice down, so she moaned openly as his thumb traced one of her nipples.

"The sounds you make …" He didn't seem to know how to articulate his appreciation for them, perhaps because he'd never been appreciated.

"More," she urged. "It feels good, Ben, more."

And he gave it to her. He pinched and tugged at her nipple, then dove in and let his tongue lathe across the other, sucking in earnest to elicit more of those sounds from her, wanton and unapologetic.

But he stayed there, never traveling lower. His uncertainty fed the tension of her arousal, and she continuously tried to buck her hips up to find his, to search out some friction where there was none. Until finally, _finally,_ she was whining and squirming.

"Please," she rasped it out, frustrated making her voice tight.

"Please what?"

Her hazel eyes widened with confusion, searching his face as he drew back from her chest, still circling her nipples. But he shifted his knee up to give her something to grind against, and she shuddered. This time it was deliberate restraint, not confusion. How he had found restraint, she couldn't imagine, but it was there in the smirk buried behind his eyes.

She didn't shy away from giving him that control. She wanted to trust him with it, to give him the chance to give her what she needed. Too much of her life had been spent taking it for herself, surviving off of only what she could secure. When she rolled her hips up against his knee to try and seek her own satisfaction rather than give voice to what she wanted of him, to really _ask it of him_ and count on him for it, he moved one hand down to press on her pelvis, holding her against the cot.

"Please what, Rey?"

"Touch me," she blurted it out, hoping honesty would spare her. She was wrong.

"Where?" Her fingers tangled in his hair and she tried to push him further down. He had the better leverage, however, and more than enough muscle to take advantage of it. It was cruel of him, denying her; she'd never felt so empty in her life, her walls bearing down around nothing, muscles she had scarcely used clenching and fluttering until the air felt cold with how slick she had made her own thighs.

_"Ben."_

"I want to hear you," he insisted, nudging his pronounced nose against her chin. "Say it."

"My cunt." It was the first time she had ever breathed the word, and she had only scarcely heard it said. More in her time with the Resistance than ever before. "Touch it. Put your fingers inside of me."

Gladly, judging by the hungry way he bared his teeth, he let his fingers slip between them. His thumb parted her folds, spread her for his examination. Rey whined out loud as it teased her with the ghost of friction without giving any real satisfaction. Her hips arched off the cot.

"Yes. Please, please." Her chest felt heavy with anticipation, and strained tears blurred her vision. "I need you, Ben."

In a suddenly sober voice, he replied, "I'm here."

And his thumb slid down against her clit, dragging along her slit and pressing into her entrance. It was barely anything, thick but stubbed and lingering at her sensitive opening, but it was like revelation washing over her. Rey shuddered, sinking into that warmth, allowing it to comfort her. A low, loud groan filled the medical bay. If anyone from beyond the cramped section of the base heard them, they dared not remark; avoiding Rey's wrath, maybe, or Kylo Ren's.

Before long she was pleading with him again for more, her hips rocking to try desperately to fuck herself on his thumb. He gave it to her, sliding two thick fingers into her slick, pumping them so fast and at just the right angle that she keened and quaked.

It felt good. So good, in fact, that she was petrified to come because she didn't want him to stop, but it hurt to hold on. And so she drew stuttered breaths, trying to compose herself that he could understand her as she pleaded, "More."

"Is this what you want?" he asked as he slid a third finger in.

Rey saw colors. Spots of red and green and spots of light and dark splotching her vision. She grunted, forced her head to shake. He dove in to bring his tongue down against her shining clit, his nose buried in the nest of dark hair that had grown unchecked.

She couldn't help it then. She came, spilling slick fluid onto his fingers, tightening around his three fingers as though she meant keep him there eternally, locked into her cunt. Rey's whole body arched off the bed and she groaned out low and long, but Ben continued to thrust until her sounds became incoherent pleas and whimpers for relief.

When he drew his fingers back, he sucked her off of them. It was not an indulgent gesture, but one of consideration, as though he were evaluating her taste. Rey's face was certainly too red already with strain and exertion; there was no way for him to see her flush, but he watched her anyway.

She groaned, a boneless pile of endorphins basking in the sensation. It took him a moment to process the groan as an attempt to speak and ask, "What is it?"

"Your cock," she said flatly. "I want your cock."

"Are you sure about that?"

She nodded. Still he didn't budge. He had seen it too, then, that he was so _big,_ and she was not, and she could scarcely picture how he would fit into her. But she wanted to try. Recognizing that he held her same reservations only made her more determined.

"Please." It was quickly becoming one of her favorite words, in fact, for how he supplied. "Give me your cock, Ben. I'll make you feel so good." She sounded drunk, babbling like this, but the slur of her words gave her no pause. She reached for him, palming his heavy erection and pumping it with the head angled towards her. "I need it."

"Do you?"

"Yes, yes, so much." She felt tears sting her eyes. Not hurt or sadness, though, simply overwhelmed by how _much_ she could feel at once. Overstimulation from her climax mingled with the emotional relief of his presence, of finally having this. "Give it to me, please. Fuck me."

The composure faltered in his expression, and Rey's eyes widened slow, watching it happen. Enamored with it, she squeezed her fist tighter.

"You're so good," she told him. "I know you'll stretch and fuck me so well."

Every breath spilled out of him in a shudder as he started to thrust into her fist, red coloring his cheeks, splotchy and uneven and stark against his milky skin. She relished it and every puff of humid air out of his mouth. She did this to him. She understood, then, why he needed to hear her; it must have done for him what looking at his expression did for her.

"Rey." Need made his voice ragged. "Come here."

He dragged her towards him by the hips, and she helped line him up with her entrance.

"Tell me if—"

"You'll know," she pointed out in her haste. She didn't want his warnings. Just him.

She cried out for him as he pushed inside, a slow stretch that leaned just the right side of splitting her apart, an almost tearing sense that left her feeling full to bursting and so, so warm. A fever clawed its way up her throat and bubbled up as he bottomed out inside of her, sheathed completely.

"Tight," he rasped, and she nodded urgently.

"So good," she rumbled. Then, gasping, "Come here."

He bowed over her, and she wrapped him in her arms. Only then did she realize his hips weren't moving, but his breath continued to shudder out.

"Ben?"

"I can't," he sounded like he might cry.

"It's okay." She stroked his back, turning her head to kiss at his neck and the side of his head. One of her hands wound up in his hair, combing through sweat-slicked locks to soothe him. "You feel so good."

But if he didn't start moving, she was going to cry herself.

She tried once more, "Please."

He drew his hips back, and her cunt clung to him, dragging out a moan in equal time with the movement. She felt her body twitch to hold him tighter for it. He got barely halfway out before he thrust back up into her again.

Once.

Twice.

On the third thrust, he made a sound like choking and a tremor ran through his body, warmth spilling into her, a trickling spilling out where they were joined, and her breath hitched. They remained in silence for a moment while he slumped over her, boneless, interrupted only by their shallow breathing slowly evening out.

Until, that is, she felt something wet against her shoulder that could not be justified as the sweat that made the rest of their limbs slippery.

"Ben?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"We can try again."

That only made his shoulders shake with the effort of holding down another sob, and Rey rubbed circles into his shoulder blades, frowning. No. It wasn't just shame — a relief, since she saw no reason for him to feel any when she'd been writhing like a skin girl pleading for his cock because she'd been so desperate for him. This was something else.

"We _can_ try again." She reiterated stubbornly. "You're going to be okay."


	2. Holding Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben get distracted while training in a temple on Devaron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to continue posting unrelated Kinktober one-shots in here, HOWEVER THIS ONE HAPPENS TO BE ... A FOLLOW-UP ON "SAY IT"... So good job me. They won't always be, however.
> 
> This installment has warnings for dubcon, edgeplay, weaponplay, and dirty talk. I think that's it ... The dubcon is mostly just because edgeplay is dangerous kink activities that aren't discussed in advance. Everyone's down for what's going on though.

They had done this before a dozen times. The purr of their sabers as they interlock calmed her these days, repetitive and dependable. Luke's cracked crystal had turned into two blades that she hefted on either side of a staff she built herself off the Rammahgon's ancient and weathered images. She broke it apart at the middle and brought both blades up to cross and catch his.

A grin split Ben's lips when they clash together, and when he sprung back to gather himself for another swing, she sprinted away, ducking around a pile of rubble that had once been a graceful stone archway.

The Temple of Eedit was in disrepair from the Resistance's recent stand against the First Order here, but it still provided a useful training ground. They were left alone in the temple for the most part, and Ben knew that Rey preferred to use her terrain, especially now that there was more than sand and duratseel to work with.

"How long do you think you can keep this up?"

"All day," she told him as he reached her in the next antechamber, a sprawling open space. She stood in the middle of it, her sabers twisted in a back grip. "And you?"

It always started like this. Playful, light. It was good for him, they agreed, to get him used to handling a lightsaber and a fight without being afraid that it meant he was slipping. Talking helped her know where he was at. If he was asking her questions, the Dark hadn't touched him yet.

Usually, at least.

He charged her in another drive, and Rey ducked, rolling across the floor and springing up. She didn't go for him. It was his turn to lead the attack, at least until he tapped out for fear of going too far. Ben was always more afraid of hurting her than she was of it happening.

But he got her off balance with his next strike, and one of her sabers went flying. She narrowly caught his follow-up with her second, and he used the blow to drive her back into the wall. He was heaving, his pupils blown wide, as he gritted his teeth and tried to bear his lightsaber down on hers, pushing her to break.

Rey could give in at any time, could call it, but the burst of aggression spurred something warm and welcome in her. She hadn't seen it in some time, and it was both reassuring that he was relaxing with her, and a welcome sight in general. They would need more of that to win the war.

Inky darkness licked at the corners of her mind.

It took a moment to recognize that it was bleeding over from him. She'd reopened the bond when he returned, seeking that connection with him again, and now it helped her spot the warning signs. Unfortunately, it fed on her desire like it fed on his anger, and Rey left her words behind. She rallied all the strength she had to throw him backward, pushing her lightsaber out to knock him away.

It took the Force to help matters. He was too large, otherwise, when she had a wall to her back. But it worked, and she was free of him for the moment. This time she advanced on him, ducking his horizontal cut so she could swipe up in a diagonal upward slash of her own that set him back on his heels.

He met her next slash with a block. her blade was shorter than his. Smaller, frailer. The result of having only half a crystal. She gripped the hilt of her saber with both hands and tried to bear down. He knocked it away and drove her back, grabbing her by the throat and driving her into the wall once again with a feral snarl. Her head connected with marble, and she grunted.

"Yield," he told her, his voice a rasp from the effort of fighting her as well as his own darkness. But she would not. Rey stretched her hands out to summon her sabers to her and crossed them between her body and Ben's, threatening his wrist where it held her throat.

He backed off then, and they exchanged another series of blows before he could knock aside one of her sabers once more. This time, he pulled down part of the ceiling to bury it. It would take too much concentration to call it back to her again. She had to make due with what she had.

That he had denied it to her also meant he was taking this sparring match more seriously than either of them ought to.

He swung, and she grabbed at his wrist to catch him. He did the same, then shoved her. It was the third time he'd pinned her to the wall, and with sweat pouring down her back, and their breath hard, it reminded her too much of how she'd rather be wrestling with him. Rey's eyes searched his face, shiny with a thin sheen of sweat, and she wet her lips.

"Ben," she murmured.

He slammed her wrist against the wall. When she dropped her lightsaber, it dimmed and went out, the hilt clattering to the floor. Ben held his steady, bringing it down so the ragged plasma beam crackled at her throat.

"Ben," she repeated.

He reacted, but only faintly. A startled dart of his gaze around her face, as if remembering to recognize her, but — "Don't use that name." Her pulse jumped. "You don't want Ben Solo."

"Of course I do," she breathed out. The lightsaber's beam kept fluttering at her neck, but she didn't budge, didn't flinch. He would not hurt her.

"Then why?"

He didn't need to ask the question — why goad him? Bait him? Push him to the edge of his control and not stop to help pull him back?

"You've been holding back," she wielded it like an accusation. "I need all of you."

"Do you?" He searched her, his eyes leaving her face to glance down the front of her robes. She had abandoned the complicated layers of wraps that had served her well on Jakku, replaced them with a proper Jedi-style tunic, leather and cotton over trousers. He reached up with his free hand, tugging open the folds of the robe. Her belt resisted the pull, but only so much. The fabric tented around her small chest, revealing that it was heaving with every breath. "Ah."

"Ben—"

"Don't," he repeated as he untied her belt, leaving her robes open and hanging. His lightsaber still crackled at her neck, the smell of burnt ozone heady, the noise drowning out even her own breathing. "You wanted this."

Wanted, yes, but his behavior could make anyone reconsider. Or it should have. Instead of fearing him, though, Rey was curious. She wet her lips as Ben's bare hand explored her chest. His touch was light, too light to be designed to satisfy; the exploration was for his sake, taking measure of her. Knowing it was his own desire for her that spurred his movements stoked a heat in her gut, which spread like lava into her veins.

Her eyes fluttered to the lightsaber. Ben was a hair's breadth from taking her head off if he didn't have control, and according to him, his control was slipping per her demands. Rey didn't quite believe that, though. He'd never seemed more in control, in fact.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you what you want," he said. "Turn around."

"I can't," Rey replied. The red beam of his lightsaber would burn her for sure if she budged even slightly. He had to know.

"Yes, you can." He repeated the order, and Rey shifted.

He seemed determined to make her regret wanting this more than anything else. Calling her bluff, perhaps. She wouldn't let that happen. She turned her head first, then slowly shuffled her feet and shrugged her shoulders in to try and shrink herself away from his blade as she rotated to face the wall. He must have moved the blade slightly, for though she could still hear it behind her, she never so much as smelled a burnt hair.

She raised her hands to brace them on the wall beside her so that she didn't have to press her face into the wall, but the head of his lightsaber radiated onto the back of her neck, and whining, she turned her cheek to flatten herself to it further anyway, which turned her face to look directly at where the beam intersected with the wall, threateningly melting away the marble.

"Good." His assurance sounded as awkward as praise ever did coming out of him, but Rey glowed with it, a whined sound drawn out of the back of her throat.

They hadn't talked about this since the first time. She'd been trying to resist too — to resist pressuring him, to resist reminding him of what had clearly been difficult for him. But now Ben unfastened her pants and pushed them with her underwear down to the middle of her thighs. Her thighs clenched, pressing together, trying to control or at least mask the dampness that had gathered there, made worse by the cold temple air kissing newly exposed parts of her skin.

No one ever came into the temple. They wouldn't come in now, she knew. But there was something exciting to be said for being pressed up against the wall instead of pressed against him snugly on his bunk in the medical bay.

His hand wedged between her thighs, spreading her apart, and she surrendered a moan as the side of his finger brushed her slick folds. Rey pressed her hips backwards in search of further friction, sucking in a breath as she felt a point on her back grow hot with the bow of her spine.

 _Ah. The quillons._ She whimpered, pulling back forward to resist them.

"You need to stay still," he told her. "Ask, Rey. I'll give you what you want."

"Please," she answered readily.

"Please, what?"

"I want to feel you," she said. He'd barely touched her, but she was already panting. "I want to come."

Ben pulled her hips back and she sucked in a sharp breath, anticipating a burn lancing across her back, but — no pain came. He bowed her, kept her face pressed to the wall, and took care to keep his lightsaber just far enough away. Centimeters.

What was he going to do when _he_ shook apart, jerked and spilled himself in her? It would cleave straight through her, she was sure of it.

"Trust me," Ben insisted, as if reading her thoughts. He may well have been. Her mind was too clouded by arousal and the dark to be attuned enough to know what she was and wasn't broadcasting over the bond. She nodded, a tiny gesture that shied away from too much movement.

He notched the head of his cock at her entrance, and Rey moaned, shifting her hips. Only when she tried to push back, to take him inside, did she realize what he had done: her feet and hips were pulled far enough back that she couldn't wiggle them further towards him without drawing herself precariously away from the wall. She was effectively pinned, paralyzed in exactly the position he'd posed her.

She couldn't urge him on with anything but a string of pleas for him to fuck her, but still Ben took his time. If he was waiting on something in particular, Rey had no idea what it was. There was nothing different to her final plea before he pushed his hips forward to drive inside.

He felt bigger this time. The stretch closer to tearing; for lack of preparation, maybe. But the burn of his cock splitting her only made Rey cry out, rejoicing the sting with a hungry sound. The first stroke was slow, and he only got halfway in before he pulled back out entirely. Rey started to turn, but her shoulder brushed too near a quillon and her lungs seized up in fear.

"Hold still," he told her.

Rey moaned as he pushed in a second time, going deeper. He kept up his slow strokes, each subsequent thrust pressing deeper until finally, blissfully, he was seated all the way inside. His other hand gripped tight to her hip, his huge fingers splaying out and climbing up near her rib cage. That grip held her steady even as she tried to bounce slightly on his cock.

"Ben, please."

"What did I say?"

She grappled for a moment, trying to puzzle him out through the haze. They hadn't talked about this, and she'd never really put thought towards it. The tension he felt around his name had seemed to bleed out whenever she used it, but now — It surely wasn't a good sign that he was asking her to use _the other_ name.

On the other hand, he really might not give it up if she refused. If he dragged this out —

"Ben," she repeated. It was worth it for him to torture her like this if only to reinforce that she would call him by no other name, see him no other way. "Ben, you feel so good."

He grunted his dissatisfaction, but made no further attempt to draw that other title out of her. Instead he took up a steady tempo with his hips. He struck a sensitive place inside her, grinding against it on every upstroke and making her knees tremble and threaten to buckle. She staggered towards the edge of her climax, perpetually reminded with every too-rough thrust that she was a hair's breadth from having her head or arm sliced off.

She opened her eyes, trying to get a glimpse of him. The red plasma beam was practically blinding, so close it was to her face, but she forced herself to focus past it, to get a look at him.

His face was flushed and shining, his eyes open to fix on the blade, but his brow furrowed in concerted effort to keep himself together. Lost, but still holding his focus on that one key piece. Rey's fingers curled against the wall, nails scraping. She pulled one away to reach down and circle her clit in slow, focused movements that were familiar to her now. They had carried her through years alone, and through the time since they'd last done this, the time in which she'd tried to resist pressuring him.

Obviously he wasn't feeling pressured.

In just a few more rough strokes, she felt herself clenching around him. Rey's wobbly moan turned to a loud keening sound as her cunt tightened, bearing down. His cock felt bigger, too big really, like it was stretching her further even though she was the one tightening around it. That cry turned to a whimper and a tremor rolled down her body, leaving her knees shaking and her shoulders convulsing.

The saber dimmed, clattered to the floor with a metal sound, and Ben scooped her into his arms. He didn't stop, though, spending himself with jerky thrusts inside of her not too long after. He pressed his forehead to the cold marble wall beside her, his whole chest heaving with each inhale. The slick sweat of his chest rubbed against her back, making her stickier and too-hot, but she couldn't be made to move for anything. Not then. If he weren't holding her up, she would have certainly collapsed.

Only as their breathing started to level out and their sweat started to dry did Rey venture to glance up at him, her eyes soft, and ask, "Ben?"

He kissed the side of her head, and she added, "Where did that come from?"

"I guess we both need to stop holding back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for letting me know what you thought! As always, feel free to follow me on tumblr at ~scavengertrash and drop an ask if you want to prompt me for something.


	3. All of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey has been trying to move past her feelings and stop waiting around for Ben Solo. She does it by starting a relationship with Poe Dameron. But when she takes things to the next level with Poe, she can't stop thinking about Ben, and the Force bond opens unexpectedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added tags. Please be aware of them! Warnings for this chapter include spitroasting, deepthroating, threesomes, established Damerey relationship, spanking, implied Finn/Rose and Finn/Poe, and severe dubcon three ways.
> 
> This fic is canon compliant through TLJ, and is not a continuation of the previous two chapters with Redeemed Ben Solo. This is bad (???) times with Supreme Leader Kylo Ren.

It didn't take long for Rey to decide that she liked Poe.

For all his stubborn impulsiveness (which Finn noted more than once reminded him of her), there was so much to like about him. Rey liked the way he bit his lip when he smiled and the way he greased his hair to curl out of his face. She liked the way he smelled of engine oil and burnt wires and leather, and she especially liked the fact that when she was with him, she wasn't thinking of Ben Solo.

Sometimes she felt a pang of guilt, like she was using him, but she'd glimpse the way he looked at Finn when he was with Rose, and the guilt passed. This was a normal way of things, and it did not make her grin when she saw him any less, and it did not make his hugs and weaker. They loved each other, even if they had loved other people first.

And there were things she could do with Poe that she'd never had a chance to do with Ben, pieces of herself she'd never gotten to share with him before he'd turned his back.

The scarcity of recruits in the Resistance meant that there was always something to do, but still they found time to huddle with one another on the bunks in the old base. He'd show her some holo, or they'd talk about how to strategize the distribution of resources across the small fleet of x-wings they had salvaged — three, in total — and they'd wind up in each other's arms, savoring the comfort of a warm body.

In these moments, Rey learned how similar they really were. They fought the same and bickered the same and they kissed the same too, all gnashing teeth and too much tongue. All eagerness, no finesse. She relished it for how wanted it made her feel.

It was only the third time they'd done this when she straddled his lap and, devouring his mouth, started to strip him. Poe stiffened with surprise only for a moment before he melted into it, getting his hands under her shirt to settle on the bare skin of her hips.

A prickle ran up her spine, a current that drowned her under the sound of her pulse rushing in her ears. Poe kissed back along her jaw up to her ear and she whined for him. She got his fly open then, belt discarded across the bunk, but while her fingertips found the velvety skin of his cock, he fumbled in removing any piece of her too-complicated layers.

"How the hell—" He grumbled against her skin. When he pulled back to try to get a look, Rey glimpsed the thick swell of his cock between them, and her heart jumped in her chest. _Oh._

She'd never seen one up so close before. Never touched anyone like this. But Poe's felt stiff and looked bigger than she had realized when she had only brushed him with her hand. She stood up out of his lap.

His eyes grew wide with anticipation, and she rewarded the awe she found there by stripping off her belt and her wrap and her boots, one item at a time. He took up the work of stroking himself, watching her with rapt attention that stabbed at her, stirring guilt that she had however briefly second-guessed allowing him to be the one to touch _her._

Rey knew that she wanted to see Poe come apart; she was not sure she wanted to open _herself_ to _him._

So when she was bare, when she had slid down her pants and her underwear to join the pile of her shirt, she looked up at Poe and bit down on her lip, thinking only of the fact that she could still not bring herself to commit to this, to him. It felt in some ways like giving up on Ben — an unfair notion, surely; she needed to live her own life and not wait for him.

Rey always had trouble giving up on waiting.

Instead of climbing atop him again, she knelt in front of him and leaned over the bunk to rest her hands on the inside of his thighs. Poe had stripped off his shirt somewhere in the middle of her incidental performance, and a fine dusting of hair covered his chest, which was broad and muscled, if not sculpted. He was beautiful. She wanted to show him how beautiful.

"Rey," he croaked. "You don't have to—"

"I want to."

"Do you?" It wasn't Poe, but another voice, thrumming low in the base of her hindbrain. No. It wasn't humming, it wasn't projected. It was real. Rey's eyes widened briefly, and she hesitated, glancing behind her.

He stood there, a wraith in the corner of the room. Red up to his ears with the sight of so much tanned skin and corded muscle exposed, glowing in the low light of the base. Her next exhale was a shudder. He shouldn't be there. He shouldn't be able to be there. She had shut him out, separated herself, and it had worked for this long. She hadn't even heard the sound of tunneling space.

"You were thinking of me," Kylo accused, following her train of thought with seamless effort. It seemed to sour him.

Of course. If her thinking of him now had summoned the bond, then it would affirm the convoluted tale he'd spun for himself that she didn't care at all, and had not thought of him at all until now.

"Do you?" This time it _was_ Poe, echoing the sentiment now that Rey had hesitated. She looked back up at him. His expression was so soft, so warm — understanding, but also hungry. The last thing he wanted was for her to do something she wasn't comfortable with because she felt obligated. "It's okay if you changed your mind."

"No." Rey said firmly. "I haven't changed my mind. I want to."

And she meant it. Even if thoughts of him had kept her from seizing the moment in its entirety, it hadn't changed how she cared for Poe and how she wanted to do this for him. It only made her more stubborn, if anything; more determined to commit to the notion that she could carry on and continue her life without him.

Rey didn't want to hurt him unnecessarily, but it had been _his_ idea to let the past die.

She could feel his anger prickle with her decision, and it gave Rey confidence. She skimmed her hands up Poe's thighs, and as her hand clasped around his length she told him, "I haven't done this before."

"I'll help you," he told her, and she believed him. It was good to hear someone else giving her that reassurance, especially with Kylo Ren at her back.

"Don't," Kylo growled through gritted teeth. Hot rage pulsed through her. It took a moment to recognize it for his, pouring across the bond. Instead of bending her to his will, though, it fed her rage with him. Like fire they grew to consume one another.

Rey leaned in, Poe's hand tangling in the loose bottom layer of her hair, and she laved her tongue along the length of him. She took the time to explore, familiarize herself, and his breath shuddered out of his chest. Relief. Her lips tugged into a satisfied smile. Whatever distraction Kylo's presence had posed, he had drifted to the back of her awareness now; hopefully, it would not be long before he disappeared entirely.

"Like that. Yeah," Poe said breathlessly, combing his fingers into her hair, urging her on as the swipes of her tongue grew more deliberate, more concentrated on the ridged head, tracing the slit. "Kriff."

The heady effect of his encouragement was that Rey doubled down on her enthusiasm, pumping her fist around him to smear her saliva up and down his cock, helping her hand glide along, even when she squeezed tighter.

"Get your mouth around it," Poe asked hoarsely.

Before Rey could, though, a sharp crack sounded in the air and stinging pain bloomed in her ass. Her whole body jerked with the suddenness of it. She hadn't forgotten him, exactly, but Kylo's silence had led her to believe that he was going to wait this out in stewing rage until the bond faded.

Apparently not.

"Do I have your attention now?" he asked, smug and seething.

By contrast, Poe sounded concerned as he said, "Rey? Are you okay? You don't have to, I was just —"

"Yes," Rey rasped. Even she wasn't sure which of them she was speaking to. Both, maybe. She pressed her eyes shut. It seemed impossible that Poe hadn't heard the crack of skin, but there was no hint of it in his eyes. He was focused entirely on her — not on the ghost that had _spanked her._

Her thighs clenched, hips shifting slightly as if to arch her pelvis towards the feeling. It opened her cunt up more, behind her, alleviating the chafing ache for friction she felt some. Humiliating though it was, she grew wetter in the wake of it, a tension rolling through her to warn her that she was playing a dangerous game with them both.

No one in the Resistance knew what precisely had transpired on Ahch-to and the Supremacy, but if she were seeing and feeling ghosts, especially at a time like this, Poe might have some feelings on the subject.

"Around it, you said?" She asks of Poe, searching his eyes with earnest. He didn't look entirely satisfied with the oddness of her reaction, but Rey had steeled herself. The bond wouldn't stay open forever. She had to deal with the problem in front of her: keeping Poe from recognizing that anything strange was going on at all. What better way to do that than—

She bit down hard on her lip to smother a whimper as Kylo's hand came down again.

It was not unlike one of the porgs who had taken up nesting in the _Falcon,_ chirping and tearing at whatever they could, begging, ' _Pay attention to me.'_ Kylo would not tolerate being ignored; that only made her more determined to push him to the back of her mind.

"You don't belong to him," he snarled. "Who is it?" Another crack of his hand. " _Who is it?"_

He didn't hold back with her. While Poe's soft eyes worried about what she could take, Kylo left red welts on her ass that spread a burning ache through her. It was not fair to compare them, not really, but she can't help it when both are so focused on her. Rey's face flushes as she feels a fresh surge of arousal trickle from her cunt, slicking her folds.

 _"Ah."_ Kylo picked up on it, his voice fascinated.

Rey dared not look, for Poe was already concerned. He opened his mouth to make some comment, to ask another question, and she knew she had to act quickly. She took Poe past her lips — a little too brazenly, in truth. Her tongue pressed him to the roof of her mouth, and she was careful of her teeth, but she bobbed down too fast, and the head of his cock brushed against her throat and made her flinch.

That gagging sound was wet in the back of her throat.

" _Kriff,_ " Poe said again. For a moment he seemed overcome with the pleasure of it, but as she drew back, slurping at him, he added shakily, "Not so fast. You can take it slow."

"I don't want to take it slow," she told him. "I want all of you."

She knew before she felt it that the slap was coming. This one hurt worse than the others, but she weathered it better, gripping Poe tight. For his part, Poe seemed grateful for it, his breath coming out more ragged now that she was staring him down and taking another dive onto his cock. She went slower, despite her remarks, but still welcomed him just as far into her throat with a series of obscene moans to accompany it.

Kylo had the advantage, really. He could touch her, but she was cornered out of acknowledging him unless she wanted to be put in an awkward position with Poe. That didn't mean she needed him to _know that._

"You're enjoying this." Kylo made it sound like an accusation, like she was some disgusting creature for it, and she couldn't argue. She had only grown wetter between him striking her and the effort of keeping her focus on Poe in spite of it. Surely that was base; she didn't need to know anything about how people usually went about this to be sure that what Kylo had turned this into — what she had allowed it to turn into — was not normal. "Did you do it on purpose?"

With Poe's cock in her mouth, she couldn't reply. It wouldn't matter if she did anyway, though. He would believe what he wanted — usually the worst of her. It's cynical of her. That she thinks is borrowed, referred over the bond. Maybe the desire is as well, though she wouldn't be so quick to disavow her own darkness.

"Did you hope I would find you?"

"Rey, you're —" Poe groaned. "Good at this."

She bobbed her head more ardently, but it wasn't until Kylo slipped a finger inside of her that she moaned around Poe's cock again. His fingers were larger than hers, stretching her. She couldn't say she wanted him to get away with doing this when he'd turned away from her, but she wasn't in a position to push him away either.

How confusing: to finally get what she had wanted, but in a way she felt ashamed of accepting it.

Kylo's finger slid straight in to the knuckle. She could feel in her chest how he marveled over it as well, the ease despite the tight fit, and she whined around Poe's cock.

"You like this?" Poe asked.

Rey popped off briefly, pumping him with her fist as she gasped out, "Yes."

"Good," replied Kylo as he slipped in another finger.

She slipped her hand flat onto Poe's hip then and hungrily sucked more of him down. It was an uncanny, alien thing to be twice filled, the walls of her cunt stretched beyond any scarce, fleeting pleasure she'd ever given it by the bulk of Kylo's fingers, and her lips straining to fit around Poe's girth.

Inasmuch as her desperate attempt could be called a plan, it seemed to have worked. Poe was caught up in the feeling, flushed and panting to the point that he did not seem to notice how Rey began to arch and rock her hips back up into the attention that Kylo gave her. Her eyes burned, faintly, with tears starting to form from overstimulation.

"What do you think he would do if he knew?" Kylo asked, deaf to her whimper as he withdrew his fingers. "Would he still want you?"

She doubted it, even as Poe's head tipped back in pleasure and he pulled her in by her hair, tugging and tearing at the roots in a way that stirred a pleasant sting. She thrived under that feeling, the slight burn feeding the fever in her. It told her that she was right about him, that he too knew what she wanted, that she didn't need Kylo for that.

Slowly, he guided her down all the way, until coarse and curling hair itched her nose and she thought she might be overfull, that if the twitching at the back of her throat made her cough, she would gag or bite or _something_ that would certainly end it all. She pressed her eyes shut tight, trying to focus on just that feeling, trying to get her tongue to work up against his shaft while he held her there.

The risk of being ignored for her present task was too much for Ben, made obvious by the fact that she could feel something thick probing at her folds. His fingers again, she thought, right up until he had pressed just inside her.

Too thick to be his fingers. Her knees spread wider, trying to open herself to him. There was something frantic about the gesture, which marked resignation that he would be inside of her. Or worse, maybe, that she wanted him to be.

While Kylo took her quietly, driving in stubbornly in one long, steady thrust, Poe had grown louder. He drowned out even the faint grunts Kylo made as her walls clenched and squeezed to bear down around him. It felt like being torn apart, split and stretched beyond her limits — not just because of Kylo, but because of the combination. Her focus was pulled in either direction, and she was caught between them.

She moaned around Poe's cock when Kylo's hips finally pressed flush to hers, and the sound vibrated up through the thick muscle, causing Poe to buck and arch beneath her. She pulled back then, gasping and choking as Kylo took a second thrust into her, jerking her hips slightly with the force of it.

"You're incredible," Poe said.

"Base," Kylo echoed. "Spreading yourself for any who come."

"Beautiful."

Rey held tight to Poe's hips, fingers digging in to leave bruises as she started to slurp and bob on his length again. She sought a pattern that would match the thrusting pattern Kylo had started to find, one which would contextualize or excuse the rock of her hips each time he snapped into her again.

In turn, Kylo gripped her hips, jerking her back towards him in a way that occasionally yanked her off Poe's cock, as though she were seesawing between them. But the best moments, she found, were when they were both seated fully in her, stretching her to her limit.

But then Poe sputtered, hips stuttering as he warned, "Keep going. I'm almost there."

Panic bubbled up in her throat. If he stopped and Kylo continued, or worse, if he tried to find a way to move things along, to fill her cunt, then — She didn't know what would happen. Particularly when Kylo was already making her feel like she was being split in two. Surely there wasn't room for them both. Surely they'd notice, or run into each other, or _something._

She pulled back then, gasping, panting.

"Not yet," she said, spit sticking to her chin and her palm, eyes lidded heavy with her own coming climax. "Not yet. Hold on, please."

"You're really into this," Poe noticed, a note of disappointment swallowed up immediately by his fascination by just how eager she was to blow him.

Unable to bring herself to ruin the effect, she agreed with an earnest nod.

Poe pointed her, generously, to how she could squeeze around the base of his cock to help him hold it together, and Rey did her best to hold it together too while her whole body quaked under Kylo's thrusts. The head of his cock had found just the right angle to enter her at, an angle that made her toes curl and tension creep up her spine and the back of her neck.

"Touch yourself," Poe urged. "I want to see how much you love this."

Didn't he know she'd burst under any further stimulation?

"I can— I can't."

"You can," Kylo said.

"Sure you can," Poe said at the same time. His face was so soft as he curled his hand along the side of her face, encouraging her.

Shame made her face hot, but beyond that, her body had begun to ache. Her jaw, her hips, her cunt, all pushed beyond capacity. Still she reached between her thighs to brush her fingertips against her raw, aching clit. She cried out with the pleasure, and Poe coaxed her back onto his cock.

"That's it, sweetheart."

His raw affection was what did it. That, and the persistent, punishing pace of Kylo's thrusts, she was too quickly teetering over the edge. Her whole body convulsed with it, and she let Poe's cock slide all the way into her throat as he clutched her hair, grunting on his own part as he chased his own climax down.

Her hand fell away from her clit to plant on the floor in front of her, which bowed her at a new angle for Kylo to lose himself in. He finished first by a narrow margin. She could feel him spend himself in her, a blossoming warmth before he leaned over her, breathing hard in her ear. His chest shuddered against her back.

It was the longest the bond had ever stayed open, and absurdly, Rey was both glad and petrified to feel him still.

But it was Poe who she clung to with one hand, holding herself up as she slowly came back from her haze to try and suck at him again, her tongue working loosely to bring him over that edge he'd promised.

Salt spilled on her tongue.

Kylo wrapped one arm around her and pressed his fingers into her collarbone to draw her to him as she swallowed Poe's spend down.

"You will never be his," came his snarling promise. "You will never belong to anyone but me." And she knew he was right, even as she watched Poe slump back on the bunk, breathing hard, recovering, blinking as though ushering away some blindness. He looked beautiful, all red and flushed and disheveled, but it was Kylo whose body wrapped around her, who cradled her through the aftershocks of her own climax.

And Kylo who kissed her neck, just as the whisper of his skin faded.

"Come here," Poe said, reaching for her, and Rey dragged her boneless and raw body up onto his bed, settling against his side. They were both slick with sweat, and he reached up to brush his thumb against her jaw, staring into her eyes and searching for something there.

Searching, she thought, for what she saw in his eyes when he looked at Finn. For what she knew had been in her eyes when Kylo had been with them. If he was disappointed, he didn't show it, but he did push his hand into her hair and pull her against his slick and shining chest. Rey kissed him there.

"Give me a few minutes," he said. "And I've got a few things I can show you too."

"That's alright," Rey answered, clamping her thighs tight to keep Kylo's cum from dripping out of her.


	4. Resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While he's a student at Luke's temple, Ben meets Rey on Jakku and convinces her to join him at the temple, learning from his uncle. Despite Luke's warnings, Rey insists that Ben be the one to teach her the ways of the Force. The two develop a codependent relationship, which Rey is too young to recognize as unhealthy and Ben is too damaged to resist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings on this chapter for underage sex, ergo I've added archive warnings for noncon because that's statutory rape. There's a case to be made here that Ben was (unintentionally) grooming her because of his own struggles with corruption of the Dark Side too, so watch out for that. Big warning for codependent relationship.
> 
> Beyond that, some warnings for spanking, daddy kink, oral sex, dirty talk, painful sex, and teacher/student (master/padawan) relationships.

It had been Ben who convinced her to leave Jakku.

Codependence from a sixteen-year-old had likely not been his intention in bringing her with him back to the Jedi Temple. It had simply been a heroic act. A Jedi's act. Unfortunately the consequence remained regardless. Rey could not bear to be parted from him, even for minutes at a time.

Luke spotted the issue first when she arrived.

"You should take another Master," he'd told her. "To help you feel more at ease. I can help you." It should have been the offer of a lifetime; Luke Skywalker, hero of the Rebellion, Jedi master. He'd trained everyone here, and Ben was still learning. But she'd been insistent.

"Please," she said.

In his compassion, Luke had agreed. She was a lost child, and she needed the emotional support of the one person who had helped her see that sometimes, parents had to let their children go — had to send them out into the world when they had a larger destiny.

That was what Luke said, anyway.

"It's not true," Ben told her in private. "It wasn't for my sake."

"Then why?" Rey was enthralled, watching the way his dark eyes darted downward, the way his brow furrowed all somber and serious. His lips would purse while he chewed the inside of his cheek and they looked fuller and softer that way. "Why would they send you here?"

"They were afraid of me," Ben said. "And they were selfish. Just like your parents."

The grief of it was almost too much to bear. Ben welcomed her into the circle of his arms with some awkwardness — he obviously had not ever held another person like this — and he petted her hair and told her, "You're not alone."

Rey, believing him, said, "Neither are you."

That night she kissed him, incited to it by the warmth of his body pressed to hers and hormones screaming in her ears for what that meant. That night he told her that she couldn't do it again — the Jedi had codes about personal feelings and romantic ties. But he still allowed her to sleep in his hut, and when he had nightmares, stirring and writhing in his sleep, he allowed her to crawl into his cot to hold him through them.

It was harder to be so close to him and not have him than to be denied him entirely. Too often she had woken with him pressed against the curve of her ass, rigid and stiff in his relaxed state, holding her close. Only in his sleep would he dare pull her body against his, seek satisfaction in the friction she could provide him with; by the light of day, he pretended it had never happened.

Rey turned to holovids, frantically rubbing herself to completion while he was busy speaking with Luke or the other older students, nearly knights.

It didn't help. Nothing helped.

The next time he was hard against her, she started to rub herself against him, and he woke to her whimpered sounds and recoiled like she had burned him.

" _Rey."_

"Please," she said with wide eyes. Her face was angular but full, still soft with youth. "I know you want it too."

He took too long to answer for her to be off the mark. Rey positively _preened_ with that.

"It can't happen," he said darkly. The words carried a finality that Rey didn't like. "Master Skywalker said —"

"You talked to _Master Skywalker about it?"_

"—Master Skywalker said that the Dark Side can reach for us in different ways." Ben's voice shook as he finished his thought. "We have to resist it."

"No, we don't." Rey knew how stubborn she sounded, resisting the wisdom of a Jedi and a Rebellion hero. Luke Skywalker was a _legend,_ a font of Jedi knowledge and serenity. "There is no Light without the Dark, Master." She drew towards him, backing him into the wall as he scrambled away from her.

"He's going to take you away from me," Ben blurted out. An ugly silence spanned, poisoning the air between them. That alone spoke to how warped this thing between them had already become — the worst imaginable fate was to be separated. "If I can't resist it, then we can't see each other anymore."

"But you take care of me," Rey said. It was unthinkable, a life separated from him. Something dark and toxic simmered in her veins. It started cold and creeping, but grew feverish and furious given time to stew beyond shellshock and incredulity.

"I know."

"I need you."

"I know. And I need you, Rey; that's why —"

He had never said it before. Never given voice to what _she_ meant to _him._ She doesn't need to hear the rest — or doesn't want to hear it, maybe. She pushes onto her tiptoes and drags him down by a fistful of his hair to kiss him again. Despite his earlier refusal, he kissed her back, and when he pulled her to him, she could feel he was still stiff with want. Hard against her belly.

When he broke away, she cut him short from making excuses.

"That's the Dark. Your fear talking." She fought to stay firm. "Resist it."

_Resist it,_ she thought, _and give in to me instead._

He had handed all of this to her, of course. Her philosophy in the Force had not come out of nowhere; it had come out of their conversations, their training. There had always been a small darkness in Ben, something seeded and stewing with the betrayal by his parents, only barely salved by Luke. He had told her once that it was what had brought him to the temple, an effort to control it, fight it. In that way, it felt almost cruel to wield it against him now, but the deed was done.

"This is bad," Ben said, getting his hands on her shoulders to hold her at bay as he broke away. "You're just a kid."

"Fine." Rey wasn't about to let go of what she'd gained. She'd felt his will begun to crumble. "I'm bad. You're my Master; punish me."

He froze up at that, even his breath stopping in his throat abruptly. The Force whispered that it was want that stopped him, and given the way his pupils twitched, she believed it. That meant she was on the right track. Rey slid her hand between them. She'd never touched anyone like this before, so the slide of her hand was exploratory more than anything, but she settled her palm over his straining erection.

"I think you like that it's bad, Master."

"Don't call me that," he seethed through gritted teeth, pushing her back at arm's length. His grip had grown tighter, however; he wanted to shove her away, but his fingers held her tight, threatening to bruise her upper arms.

"Then what should I call you?" She couldn't reach him; his arms were longer than hers. So instead she started to unfasten the belt around her robes. _Jedi robes_. Jedi weren't supposed to do this, but she'd wanted to since he brought her here. She'd seen how men and women alike bartered for goods on Jakku with their bodies. Ben, he'd given her something she couldn't put a price on — freedom, companionship, purpose — and she'd never repaid him. Until now Rey hadn't thought hers would entice him, but his admission of _need_ made her feel powerful. "Sir?" His eyes were dark, searching her still. "Daddy?"

"Rey…"

The heat in his voice was new and dark with promise. She latched onto that, and onto the way he'd used her age to justify resistance. Just like that, she became the dark calling to him.

"Have I been a bad girl, Daddy?"

Minute changes to his expression made it seem for a minute as though he might continue to resist. She let her robes fall away, exposing her bare skin, tan and freckled, to the dim light of their shared hut. Rey had always seen her body as a tool to her survival, muscled and compactly sturdy, but Ben looked at her like she was a miracle.

She sank onto the cot he'd fled.

"Show me how to be good," she appealed. "I want to be good for you."

A chronic outsider, Rey had never felt like enough here. The other students were the children of Rebellion heroes and nobility, all found through Luke's connections, gathered together. Rey, by contrast, was an accident; youngest of them all, she was the scrappy, dirty hanger-on they'd acquired from Jakku. Though she tried hard and valued the work, she wasn't clever or studious because no one had ever taught her those skills. She was patient and clear-headed, but also blunt and incapable of thinking as abstractly as Luke often demanded.

But she was enough for Ben. Enough that he didn't just want her; he wanted to take care of her, to show her all the nurturing affection they had both been denied by the circumstances of their lives. Even though he had the most exceptional power and bloodline of all those present at the temple, he too was outcast for the darkness inside of him, for his ineptitude with the Light.

They were made for each other.

"You have," he said as he took long, heavy strides towards her. Each was slow, deliberate, as if he knew how each seemed to echo and pulse in the Force. "You've been very bad."

"Am I going to be punished?"

In her entire life, Rey had never been punished for anything by another person's hand. Punishment had been from the universe at large — if she failed to find the right parts, she'd lacked food to eat; if she fell and injured herself doing something stupid, she had no one to pick her up from that place; even here, if she neglected her hard work in training, she earned only sighs and understanding nods and patience.

There was something tempting to the notion that Ben would provide it to her.

"Yes," he said. "Turn over. On your knees."

Desire made his voice thick in a way she'd never heard, just shy of hoarse. And he spoke slowly, as if he were feeling this out too. She had never seen Ben show any interest in other students here, and they mostly avoided him for his strangeness. It was not impossible to imagine that he was just as inexperienced as she was.

Rey turned over, planting her hands and knees on the cot. She gathered fistfuls of the bedding in her curling fingers as he came to kneel behind her.

"Do you know why you're being punished?"

"Because I made you disobey Master Skywalker," she guessed. When she spoke Rey found her voice too had a breathy quality to it that she hadn't heard before. She wasn't just learning him, but new parts of herself, parts that had been denied and sublimated both for survival and for belonging at the temple. "Because I made you want me."

"That's right." He reached around her hips to unfasten her pants, sliding them down. The air felt cold against her bare skin, and she could not ignore that she was naked while he was fully dressed. It made her feel more exposed, somehow, to know that he hadn't revealed himself at all. "You're so beautiful, Rey."

"Thank you, Daddy." His praise warmed her chest.

"This is going to hurt," he said. "I need you to tell me if it hurts too much."

"I will." Anticipation clenched her inner muscles around nothing. It would not be too much. She could take it. "I can take it. I promise I'll be good."

"Good girls know when they need to quit," Ben insisted. "If you want to be good, you have to tell me when I need to stop."

She picked up, finally, on why he was pushing this so hard. He didn't think he would stop if she didn't tell him to. That darkness that had settled itself in his chest when he was barely walking had never gone away, and given quarter like this, it might blossom. Rey's skin prickled with that awareness, the danger making her anticipate it more.

Somehow she felt more at home in that moment than she ever had at the temple. Danger was familiar to her. Threats were something she could understand.

"I'll tell you."

With her pants bunched around her knees, he rubbed his palms over the smooth planes of her ass, bare and paler than the rest of her. She shivered when he touched her, as it addressed a longstanding emptiness. Human contact had been too scarce before she had met Ben — a necessity on Jakku, and a wound it had left.

He brought his hand down hard, then, and the slap rang out through the hut. Rey jolted with the sudden sting, and fear flooded them both that it had been loud enough that one of the other students might hear — or worse, Luke himself. But a few seconds passed in quiet, broken only by their breath.

Ben spoke first, asking, "You asked for this. What do you say?"

"Thank you," she rasped, her skin still prickling as blood rushed back into the place he'd struck her.

Another clap of his hand. She grunted this time.

"Thank you what?"

_Ah._ She realized then just how much he liked it. She could have guessed. He'd been so fixed on her youth and his relative role in their relationship. He wanted it to keep going.

"Thank you, Daddy."

He struck her five more times, and she thanked him with each, each warming her skin and clenching her inner muscles until slick arousal dripped out of her and clung to sticky thighs. She let him go until her ass stung to the point of near numbness, until tears had formed in her eyes with the force of each slap.

"I can't," she whimpered on the heels of the last. "Please, Daddy. I'm sorry."

"Shh," he murmurs, pressing his mouth to her burning skin like it's a salve. The rawness of her skin only makes it feel more intense, overwhelming even. She trembles, and he keeps soothing her. "Good girl. You did so well." Another kiss. "Thank you for telling me."

Warmth bloomed in her chest, spreading high into her cheeks. His affirmation in training had always had a similar effect on her, making her glow with his scant and always hard-earned praise, but this was better. She'd never be able to hear his praise on her forms without thinking of this moment.

His hands slid down the curve of her ass to the juncture of her thighs, and there, his thumbs pulled her open, spread her for his inspection. Rey squeezed her thighs together to no avail as Ben noted, "Did you enjoy being punished, Rey?"

"Yes," she choked it out like an apology.

"Yes what?" He was so close to where she wanted him. With her cunt spread like this, the stretch prickling her skin, he had exposed all the parts of her that she so badly wanted to welcome him to.

"Yes, Daddy." She leaned down onto her elbows, arching her hips towards him, exposing herself more fully. "I want you to touch me."

"That wouldn't be a very good punishment, would it?"

He sounded genuinely puzzled over that. Inexperience on both their parts, perhaps. Rey fumbled with that, biting down on her lip, searching for a way to validate it without breaking the scenario they'd built themselevs into.

Ultimately she decided the scenario mattered less than, "Please, Daddy. I want to come. You said I was good when I asked you to stop. Please."

She spread her thighs a little wider, resisting the urge to try and clench her thighs and rub for friction that way. It wouldn't work in this position anyway, her head pressed down to the cot, her ass high in the air.

"Do you think you deserve to come for that?" Now he sounded more thoughtful, less lost.

"Yes. I've been so good for you."

"No," he corrected. "You liked being punished. I think you still need to show me that you really are sorry for what you did."

"Whatever you want." The fact that he was taking a stronger initiative with it surely meant that she would enjoy what was coming. He had invested himself, stopped resisting. As much as she needed his touch, she doubted she would be sorry for agreeing to what was coming. "I'll do anything for you, Daddy."

He groaned. It was such a low, guttural thing that she almost believed she had misheard him. There was no way simply saying those words had such an effect on him, and otherwise he had only been spanking her. She hadn't touched him.

But when she peered back over her shoulder, sure enough, Ben was shifting to put his back against the wall and palming the front of his pants. His erection had grown since she had touched it, the bulge more prominent now.

"Come here," he told her.

She slipped off the cot in her efforts to turn around, caught in the tangle of her pants where they bunched around her knees. She didn't bother climbing back up, but instead leaned forward to place her hands on his thighs.

"Do you know how to—"

"Yes." Rey said eagerly, reaching for his pants with scrambling earnest. His groan had given her everything she'd wanted. He needed her, he looked at her like she was worth something, he saw her value. She wanted to make him feel good for all that and more.

In truth she could not claim that she knew _how_ to take him into her mouth, but she possessed the most basic idea of it. She wouldn't have him using that as an excuse to deny her the opportunity. When she freed his erection from his pants, her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

His cock was huge. Well, no. It was proportional; _he_ was huge. Darker than the rest of him and ruddy, it looked angry as it bobbed out of his pants, jutting out with a slight curve. Some she had seen in only passing looked like loose socks, soft and hidden inside of skin, but the shining red tip of Ben's cock pointed towards her, glistening with a semi-translucent fluid.

"You're beautiful," she told him, gripping the shaft.

When he said nothing to that, she glanced up at him and saw that his cheeks and the tips of his ears had turned pink. Rey grinned.

"I'm going to swallow your pretty cock, Daddy, to show you how sorry I am."

Another of those groans. She leaned in and lapped at the head, tasting the salty-bitter hints of his arousal. He twitched — bodily, yes, but his cock also jumped in her grip. No one had ever touched him like this before. She could feel it in the tension that rippled between them.

A smarter, more learned Jedi might consider who else could feel that tension, but it was as Ben said — Rey was a child still.

"It's so soft," she marveled as she stroked the shaft, tongue playing with the ridge around the head, with the tiny slit that she had already spent of precum. "I want to make you feel good, Daddy, but I don't know how you'll fit. You're so big."

A broken cry left the back of his throat and his head tipped back. She had to guess that praise was as foreign to him as to her. Rey took to sucking on the head of his cock, continuing to work her tongue against it. She couldn't talk to him like this, but the look on his face was worth it. His lips parted, and his eyelids hung heavy, but not so heavy that he couldn't watch her every movement as he worked one hand through the hair she left loose around her shoulders.

"Like that," he encouraged. Near speechless, he still managed another, "Good girl."

His hips strained upward, thrusting him further into her mouth. Startled, she pulled back slightly, but as his fingers curled against the back of her neck, she leaned in again. Hollowing her cheeks, she took to sucking at him, as much as she could stand to take. Even with him solidly in her mouth, she could still fit her fist around him. He really was _massive._

Then all at once he stopped her. Grabbed her jaw.

"Rey," he said, voice shaking. "If you keep going, I'll—"

"I want to make you come," she told him as she popped off. Spit slicked her lips and chin, and her hand was soaked with where it had dripped down the rest of him. "So much. I want to taste you."

"Are you sure? I won't —" He coughed as if embarrassed. "Once I come, Rey, that's it."

Oh. That, she hadn't realized.

"You've been such a good girl," he said. "I thought I'd give you something else you wanted. Is there something else you want?"

"Yes," she breathed. Her lungs felt suddenly squeezed. She sat up straighter. "I want to feel it inside of me. You're so big; I want you to split me open on your cock, Daddy."

She crawled into his lap, leaving her pants behind on the floor as she did.

"Does my girl still want to come?"

It made her glow to be called his, so she nodded.

"Yes, Daddy," she answered in a shaking voice.

"Come here." He tugged at her hips, easing her towards his cock. On first brush, her folds rubbed along the length of him, a slick glide that had them both moaning. Anticipation had Rey's breath shuddering; she looked down at him and saw that, pressed between them as it was when their hips came together, he nearly reached her navel. On the second attempt, he gripped his cock in one hand and used the other to guide her to shift her hips downward.

She could feel the thick head of his cock pressed to her entrance. Rey looked down to watch as he pressed in. She could not see how he stretched her, no with her hand in the way and the angle all wrong. She'd never properly seen her own cunt at all, in fact. But she _could_ see how he disappeared, inch by inch, as she lowered onto him.

Her whole body groaned with it. He released his cock, no longer able to keep his fist between them, and he reached up to grab her other hip so he could guide her more firmly. Sucking him off had only made her more wet, listening to the strangled sounds of his faint restraint. The slide was easy, but the pain broke through the pleasure and had her whimpering, but Ben didn't stop.

Rey refused to believe that he was simply too big for her; they were made for each other, _connected._ The Force had led them to each other and they knew one another like no one else could. She would not be denied this by the burning, tearing feeling of penetration.

But he had told her that _good girls_ spoke up when it was too much. So with a cry, Rey confessed.

"Daddy, it hurts."

"Shh," he whispered. Lost in the feeling, he kept pulling her down. "Shh, it's okay."

"Hurts," she whined again, this time through gritted teeth. He looked up at her, eyes almost entirely black but concern furrowing his brow through the flush of his arousal.

"Kriff," he muttered, pushing up on her hips to get her off. "I'm sorry, Rey, we don't—"

"No." She tightened her thighs to hold her place. It squeezed her inner walls around him too, though, and she cried out. She rested her forehead against his shoulder, both hands coming to rest there. "No, please, don't make me stop. I want it."

"It's okay." He stroked her back. "You're doing so well. Taking me so well."

That praise fed her. She nodded, trying to pull her breathing back under control as she blinked and allowed a handful of tears to trickle out. She sniffed.

"Here," he took one of her hands, guiding her to her clit. "I don't have to move. Keep going like this. Show Daddy how you do it."

Rey's folds were wet with the glide of his cock, so it was slick and smooth already as she began circling her clit gently with one finger. Her cunt fluttered with the pleasure, briefly aching with the intrusion of his cock, but then softening, relaxing. She opened up to him. Her head fell back and she released fuller breaths, heavier instead of stifled with the tension of trying to withstand him.

"That's it." His praise came with the steady exploration of his palms over her sides, her breasts. "Do you think you can take more?"

She had made him greedy. Rey wet her lips, nervous, but she nodded.

Slowly, together, they brought her down further on his cock until she could feel the head pressing against something firm and sensitive inside of her that made her recoil with a gasp.

"Alright, I won't go deeper," he said. "You have to—" His hands were shaking on her skin. "I don't want to hurt you."

Holding back was taking all of his willpower. She could understand that. It had taken so much of hers for so long too. Dumbly, drunk on lust, she nodded, and began to slowly lift her hips. She was slow gong at first, both out of caution and lack of expertise. But as she got the hang of it, she grew more confident, and she picked up the pace, finding a modest rhythm that didn't prevent her from focusing on the work at her clit.

"Kriff," Ben said again. "Rey. Rey, I'm gonna come."

"Not yet," she told him. "Please, not yet."

His whole body was like a coiled spring, desperate to hold on to the tension that was welling up and threatening to explode. She rode him ruthlessly, searching out her own climax beyond his and trying to pull it ever closer. She stopped circling her clit, driving deliberately against it in time with the thrusts.

Neither of them thought he'd make it, but blessedly, she could feel herself tipping over that final precipice while he was still making strangled sounds of restraint.

"I'm gonna come." Her free hand gripped his shoulder. "I'm gonna come all over your cock, Daddy. Can you feel it?"

Her eye were wide and desperate and searching his face. He nodded, speechless but to grunt, and when the tightening of her walls shifted to the fluttering spasm of her climax, she thrashed and gripping him tight and carried him over the edge with her. He spilled inside of her, a warm flood that made her preen.

"Thank you," she sputtered. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Her face nuzzled into the curve of his throat, and he wrapped his arms solidly around her. She could feel the seed of dread in Ben taking root, sprouting, but she kissed along the slope of his shoulder, desperate to chase it away. _No, no, be with me._ The path of her mouth took up his neck, his jaw, his cheek.

"What's wrong?" she asked, when he turned his head away from her kiss, the hurt heavy in her voice. "What is it?"

"Luke," he said. "He's going to find out."

"He's not," she whispered. "I promise. I won't let him take you away from me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for commenting. If you'd like to prompt me for something specific, you can head to my ask box on Tumbler at ~scavengertrash.


	5. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahch-to canon divergence. While she stays on Ahch-to, Rey grows increasingly convinced that Luke is keeping a secret, harboring some guilt deeper than what he had done to Ben that night at the temple. When she uncovers what it is, she gets more than she bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter primarily relate to incest. But there's also some manipulation, unhealthy power dynamics, implied breeding, oral sex, and praise kink.

Rey sees it in Luke's eyes that there's something he's not telling her, some guilt that he doesn't know how to put to words. It's hard to suffer being left out of the loop like this, knowing there are entire pieces that don't add up. He knows something about her. He looks at her like he's seen her somewhere, in another life maybe. But he never puts words to it.

Ben has the same look in his eyes when he stands opposite her in the rain, though it never touches him. He weathers it boldly, an ethereal being, something mystical and impervious.

"Tell me," she begs him, and he does. All of it.

She drinks it in, the truth of what happened to him the night he'd left. And when she takes him inside of her, it's like he really is there, warm and solid and real. He brings her to the edge and over time and again, rocking with her, whispering dark promises of protection.

He is convinced Luke will only hurt her.

She stays on Ahch-to anyway. Hope for the rebellion lies in that damaged old man, and she's not going to give it up just because Ben Solo is afraid for her. Ben Solo, she has realized, is afraid of most things.

And Luke _knows something._

"What did you do to him?" She asks during their next training session, while she's cross-legged in a cavern made up all of salt crystals the glow with bioluminescent moss. "Ben."

"Be careful, Rey." Luke warned her.

"Of _what?"_

"The Dark can be seductive." She expects him to leave it at that, but he continues, "I struggled with it, just as Ben did. When I saw that he had succumbed, I — I reacted out of fear. What I did to him …" He shakes his head. "Made him what he is."

"Then make it right," she says. "Help him."

"Some things can never be made right."

"That's not true." She gets to her feet, all stubborn fire. "Ben Solo can still be turned."

"That's not what you told me three days ago." Luke tilts his head, studying her. Puzzling her out. She doesn't particularly like his scrutiny, or the fact that she imagines he would only scold her if he knew. "What changed?"

"I learned the ways of the Jedi. From you."

"No," he argues. "That's not it."

He draws closer to her, and Rey staggers back, trying to evade him as though he might be able to smell the scent of sex and sweat still on her. She has bathed in the sea, and it has made no difference, as though Ben's darkness had settled into her skin, changed her.

"You've seen him."

"That's impossible," Rey snarls.

"Not with the Force."

"What do you know about—" She has outed herself. A long silence drags, Luke's stare probing into her until finally she admits in a cracking voice, "Yes." Tears make her voice thick. "I don't know how, or why, but … he's been here. With me."

"With you." Luke repeats it, brow furrowing. "Rey…"

"I was _lonely._ You weren't telling me anything." She turns it on him, snapping. "Even now you're hiding things. Your worst sin exposed, and you still won't tell me what you're here to punish yourself for."

"Because of what I did to you."

"What?" Rey's voice sounds distant, even to her, as the words sink in. They can't mean what she thinks they mean. No, Ben would have known if that were the case, and he hadn't said anything. And what they'd done … "What did you do?"

"Rey, I'm sorry." Grief trembles in his voice. "I'm so sorry."

"Stop." The word breaks as easy as the dead and drying weeds she'd collected on Jakku before she'd ever known what real flowers felt like, looked like. _Fifteen years_ she had stayed on that spit of desert. It couldn't be. Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, _Rebellion hero,_ would never — "Don't say it."

"There is a Jedi precept that forbids intimate relationships. It … distracts a Jedi. Allows the Dark Side to take root. They said it was because connections led you to prioritize personal feelings over what was right." Luke steps away from her, looking down at his hands and closing them into fists before lowering them to his sides. "They were right."

"What does this have to do with me?"

Even now, she refuses to believe it. He's spelling it all out for her, and she can't hear it. Everything that she has always wanted, and all she can hear is the ghost of Ben's promises in her ear while he was rooted inside of her — _I won't let him ruin you._

"I broke my oaths," admits Luke. "A moment of weakness."

"That's not a _moment."_

"I don't regret the relationship I had with your mother."

"No."

"Rey, you were … _are_ … a miracle. But I was afraid that just like Snoke had found my nephew, that he would come for you. The Dark Side had begun to rise again, and I wanted to keep you out of the fight. I asked Mara to take you somewhere that they would never find you."

Bile bubbles up in the back of her throat, choking her. She squeezes her eyes shut and paces away from him, covering her mouth with her hand. No. No, Snoke had never found her, but something far worse has. The Dark Side still got its hooks in her.

"When I saw what it had done to Ben that night, I … I didn't want my daughter to have to live in a world like the one I grew up in. I watched the Empire _destroy_ my family."

"You destroyed your family," Rey snarls back, lip curling. The tears break from her eyes, rolling down her face. "You sent me away!"

"To _protect you!"_

It sounds too much like what Ben had told her. She doubles over, retches in the corner of a sacred cave. She has eaten next to nothing, and as such, there's only so much to upheave. She stays bent over for some time after.

"I don't expect you to forgive me," Luke says. "I can't forgive myself."

Rather than stick around — go figure — he excuses himself. He's gone. Just like before, he's gone. She doesn't get the chance to ask him if he'd ever even thought about coming for her, doesn't get the chance to wonder what he would have done if she'd never asked. She could have gone forever not knowing, never seeing —

Her family. She has a family.

"Rey?"

Ben's voice pushes ice into her veins. She snaps her head up and looks back at him. He is ragged, sweating and red around the eyes. Something has gone very wrong in the First Order, on the far side of the galaxy. _Good,_ she thinks bitterly. _He deserves it._

"You lied to me," she tells him.

"What?"

"You knew." She gets to her feet and advances on him. "You knew, and you let me—"

"Let you?" He tilts his head, finding power in her powerlessness as he always has. The frailty of his expression pulses, pushed back by something savage and survivalist. He is like her, yes, she sees it now. This is blood. Not experience. "I recall very little room to refuse."

"You —"

"There it is." His eyes look hungry dancing on her. Even now. It makes her feel equal parts warm and sick. "That temper. A family trait, I think."

"You're disgusting."

"Then so are you." He advances on her then. "You've been searching for family your whole life. You felt it when you met my father. When you met me. You're obsessed with it."

"No." Denial hardens her voice, but not enough. "That's not true."

"You felt it," he repeats, touching her face. Her face contorts in disgust as she turns away, wedged too near to the wall to back away properly. "And you wanted it anyway."

Silence answers him. Rey refuses. She cannot swallow her disgust and reply.

"Did you tell Luke?" She drops her gaze. An answer all its own. "If it were a mistake, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you blame _him_ for hiding it?"

"No."

"Wouldn't you come running to him for protection from the dark? For a way to keep me from getting at you again?"

She slowly shifts her gaze to look up at him.

"You still want me. Even knowing, nothing's changed."

"You lied to me. Manipulated me."

"Yes," he admits. "To teach you."

"Teach me _what?"_

How cruel, that she should find a family and immediately see that it is broken beyond reason, fragmented and foiled and lost in its own way. She will never be able to touch it. None of them without their sins.

"That you are wrong to trust them."

"To trust _you._ "

"I tried to protect you from the truth of Luke's crimes. He tossed you away like garbage."

"He protected me," she growls. "You're jealous that no one did the same for you."

The barb lands, even if it takes all her willpower to force it out. It is impossible for her to regard Jakku as a boon, only two weeks away from it, but she commits nonetheless. She will not allow him to pretend his lie was to her benefit and not his own. Ben plants one hand on the wall beside her head. A metal wall, probably, for him, but it allows the same effect nonetheless.

"That's not what you really think."

"It is," she insists. "You lied to me so I'd — so that I'd _sleep with you."_

"Again, as I recall, you took little convincing."

"If I'd known —"

"You do know," Ben says. "And it changes nothing. I can sense your feelings."

"Liar."

"You still want me."

When she opens her mouth to protest, he forces his hand down her trousers. She sucks in a breath, whimpers as his fingers find her slit, slick with honey. A slow smirk spreads across his face, and he leans in close, whispering against her ear.

"Tell me to stop," he invites her.

But she doesn't. And she won't. Two of his fingers slide in and she welcomes them, losing herself to the sensation. The thrust of his fingers is easy, unobstructed, but a pleasant stretch which creeps up her spine and curls at the base of her neck.

Heartened by her surrender, he takes on the task of disrobing her with his other hand. It's haphazard and messy. He is not particularly dextrous in this (she suspects that their first time together was his first time ever), but she does not interrupt him for want of losing herself in the feelings and not thinking about the gravity of what she is committing herself to.

It is one thing to allow him to trick her, to fall into him in a moment's weakness and loneliness — it is another entirely to seek solace for her father's betrayal in the arms of her cousin. She does it just the same.

"At first I did not believe it could be you." His whispers are like prayers at her clavicle as he works down her newly exposed chest. "He never told me where he hid you. I thought you must have died."

"Don't," she pleads. "I don't want to hear it."

"But your _power."_

There's something hideous about his fascination with it. A legacy he shares, made external. He devours her, and in doing so, he feeds this obsession with what is left of Vader. Still she moves with him to the floor of this sacred cave and allows him to bury his face between her thighs.

"Beautiful," he whispers, reverent. No one has ever looked on her and judged her as such, and it prickles her skin. "We were made for each other, Rey. Your body feels it." He presses his fingers back into her. "Look how wet you are for me."

He dives in then, laps and sucks at her clit. Rey's fingers knot in his hair while his tongue splits her folds, and she's never sure whether she's pulling him closer or pushing him away even as she cries out.

They desecrate this place, and purify it.

"You're mine," he tells her once she has come apart on his tongue again, once his face is stained with her fluids and shining. He is trembling, she realizes. In some kind of awe. Perhaps he, too, had not expected that she would allow him to continue now that the truth was out. "You were always going to be mine. You were born to be mine."

These things cannot be true, she thinks. But she doesn't know well enough to deny it, and it's hard to argue when his cock slides so perfectly inside of her. It's a pleasant stretch, made more pronounced by the way he stretches her thigh across his body to get himself deeper. She lets him manipulate her body like he's posing a doll, tears running down her cheeks as she accepts how good it feels, how right it is to have him inside of her, as if they were halves of a whole, as if he were coming home.

"Please," she begs.

"Tell me what you want," he urges her. "I want to hear you."

He wants more from her than dead weight and resignation. He wants the girl who hadhad pushed him down and taken him, guiding him through it. But she is more lost and afraid than she has ever been, and guilty over taking solace from it in him now.

"I want …" She hiccups on his next thrust. It almost hurts, really, but she can't help thinking she deserves it. "Touch me," she chokes out the words. "Please, Ben, I need more."

And he does, his gloved fingertips finding her clit. The leather surprises her, somehow, for how soft it is and for how bruising it makes his touch. She bucks into it, taking him deeper, and cries out.

"You're perfect," he tells her. "They were monsters to try to hide you away."

"Yes." Her cries are nonsensical beyond that one word, repeated over and over. Begging him to give her the love their family never has.

"But I found you. You're — _radiant_ ," he growls that like he begrudges her it.

Light, for his dark. A balance.

She keens as her climax hits her, a crash of thunder that has her inner walls clamping down around him like a vice. The tremor runs all the way down her legs, muscles convulsing like she were possessed. He fucks her through it, letting her thigh down so he can hold her to his chest, bent over her like a supplicant.

He spills inside of her, and it is only this time that she realizes what he has done. What this is really for. It's the warmth of his spend that brings clarity to it all.

"No," she whispers. This is where she stops him.

"The galaxy will be ours," he tells her.

And then he's gone, the bond severed. Her eyes widen, red-ringed, and she stares at the mineral stalactites. The glow of the cave feels dimmer, now, without him here. Or the tears in her eyes blur the luminescent molds. It bears down around her as her cousin's semen trickles out of her, threatening her with a destiny she made the mistake of hoping for. All at once, she feels the burden of that legacy, but he is not here to bear it with her anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've already given kudos and you're not sure how to show you appreciate this chapter, it's totally okay to comment with just "extra kudos"! Comments help me feel motivated.


	6. Fooled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could be read as a follow-up to the Damereylo threesome chapter, but no real mentions of Damerey. Rey has started a secret sexual relationship with Kylo across the force bond, but it's purely physical. He won't stop asking for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filled for the Kinktober hatesex prompt. Also contains orgasm denial and sort of blackmail? 
> 
> This one's much shorter than the others; sorry, it was a long day at work.

"This doesn't change anything," Rey said firmly.

"Fine."

Kylo pulled open the buttons of his tunic. Black, she'd been told, is slimming, but he always looked so broad in it. Broader still when it slides down to the floor. Rey kisses his chest.

"I mean it."

"Okay."

He didn't believe her. The bond told her that.

But at this point, they'd already transgressed this barrier, and Rey couldn't stand sleeping with Poe anymore. It felt like a pale imitation of how Kylo had made her skin crawl and her eyes roll up. She wanted this. The heat, and the violence.

Her teeth scraped across his sternum and he hissed out a breath.

"My feelings haven't changed."

"I know," he replied, but his voice was rough with a different kind of desire. The bond made it echo and pulse between them, as though his voice were wrapping around her, embracing her. Rey shivered. "I can feel it."

He meant the other. He understood, seeing this, feeling it, that she still cared for him. The hubris of it only fueled her anger. She turned away from him, bracing one hand on the wall and pulling him against the curve of her ass. His hips flat to hers, she could feel the long, thick warmth of his erection seated comfortably between her cheeks.

"Hurry," she told him.

But he took his time, infuriatingly, thrusting at a steady rhythm. His hands found her hips, pressing the soft flesh of her ass together around his cock as he did.

"And do what?"

He always preferred to hear her say it. That, she could hate him for. He knew what he was doing and still he held it over her until he could bend her. Rey snarled, baring her teeth over her shoulder and spitting, "If you're not going to make me come—"

He seized her by the throat, the leather of his gloves digging in. The pulse of her cunt spilled a fresh surge of wet. Her eyelids fluttered as his grip started to block the flow of blood. She should have stopped him. A wiser woman would not allow the Jedi-Killer, the man who had come after her on Crait, to grip her throat like this. Rey relished it.

He would not kill her. Could not. Just as she could not pretend this was nothing.

"I want to hear you beg, Rey."

His anger matched for hers. Neither of them could accept how close they were, how nearly they completed each other without quite succeeding. Close enough to kiss, close enough to fuck, but still on opposite sides of the war.

He pushed his cock down, let it slide against her wetness without the head pushing in. With a whine, Rey rocked back against him. He used his free hand to press on her lower back, to force her against the wall.

Fighting him never occurred to her. She let him do this because she wanted it.

"Tell me."

"I hate you," she said.

It didn't heal either of them because they both knew it to be a lie.

"Maybe," he assented anyway. "But I'm the only one who make you feel like this."

Unfair though it was, he spoke the truth. Rey whined, a reedy noise in the back of her throat that dragged on too long, all resistance to his demands. Kylo did not seem bothered by it. He had taken up a steady pace, fucking against her folds, pressed between the soft muscle of her thighs, which was already sticky with her arousal.

"Who are you fooling?" he asked. "Why lie to yourself? Tell me."

"Fuck me," she growled out the words.

"Not good enough."

"If you don't, I'll find someone else to do it."

That got him. A hollow threat, but he was always more jealous than discerning. His cock pushed up into her then, driving too deep in their present position. She hissed out a breath as he slid right in, stretching her around his too-thick cock.

"There is no one else," he told her.

And he was right. Rey slipped into it then.

"I know," she said.

"You're mine." He growled it into her ear. "You've always been mine."

"Just fuck me, please." She didn't want to hear his appeals, his demands. She'd heard them all before, listened to him spill them out like promises in the dark of the night. This had nothing to do with those feelings. This was about release.

He obeyed, thrusting up harder, setting a bruising pace. Her cervix ached with each pump of his cock, and she cried out, but didn't ask him to stop. She wanted it to hurt. It always hurt with him.

Some part of her recognized that they couldn't come back from this. That maybe if she'd held him at a distance, if she hadn't let him in, that they'd have stood a chance, but like this she had lost him for good. All they would ever get was these half measures of one another, caught in the shadows in between parts of the galaxy. Secret. Stolen. 

Every rough, ragged breath spilled out against her ear. That raw sound was made fuller by the tunneling of space, and she whimpered, savoring that strangeness. It meant feeling his cock inside of her and also the aching pressure of her own cunt bearing down around him, feelings transferring openly over the bond.

It never took them long, for that reason. The countdown began the minute he slipped inside.

"Don't," she warned him when he got too close. "I'm not ready."

"I don't care," he said, and spilled in her anyway.

He withdrew immediately. She never let him stick around, and he was done trying to. Still she felt a sense of loss when the warmth of his chest faded, and she was sweaty and pressed against the metal wall.

"I hate you."

"I'll give you what you want," he said. "Come to me."

"I can't." She choked out the word. Something broke in her chest. "You know I can't."

"Why?"

"If I do, I really will hate you. Forever."

He was gone then, and she was left unsatisfied, sinking onto the floor and burying her face against her knees. She'd been a fool to let him in. A terrible, desperate, lonely fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are giving me so much motivation! I cranked this out despite a 12-hour work day today, so please continue letting me know if you're enjoying what I write. I'm also available for prompts at ~scavengertrash on Tumblr.


	7. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rare canon compliant omegaverse fic! Omega!Rey begged Alpha!Kylo to mate her in the hut on Ahch-to when he triggered (and helped her through) her first heat. But following the fight on the Supremacy and on Crait, they have gone their separate ways. Rey goes through her first heat without her mate to support her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings here for hatesex, a/b/o dynamics, nonconsensual ? ? knotting ??, dirty talk, begging, borderline ahegao, praise kink, hairpulling, inappropriate use of the Force, and some unhealthy relationship dynamics that border on gaslighting.

The one thing everyone can agree upon when they settle into the new Resistance base is that Rey's alpha is a piece of shit.

She won't tell them who he is. But Poe, Finn, and (blessedly) even Rose are all there to disparage his decsion to leave her. Despite this fact, her leaving makes made her feel like a worthless, sorry excuse for an omega. Used. Worn out. Damaged.

She should have stayed with him.

There's no proper time to curl up onto her self and weep over the loss of her mate, but the gnawing on her soul gets worse day by day. Months pass without seeing him again, the bond holding fast despite her uncertainty about how easy it would be to just lock him away when the whiny, needy omega parts of her plead still to have him.

She keeps her hair down, tries to hide hte scars on her scent gland from where Ben had been anything but gentle the night he'd claimed her. The night she'd begged him to because they'd both been so, so lonely that they'd triggered each other's heat and rut respectively. It was a stupid, impulsive mistake that she'd never be able to take back, but it was done.

And she has resolved not to dwell on the past.

It works for the most part, except that Finn has recently gone into heat, and he and Poe have disappeared, and she can feel all of it. Not just scent it, but _feel_ the ripples through the Force of their joining. Poe will mate him. They will be happy. She has to be happy for them.

She sits with Rose in the mess.

"So this doesn't happen to you anymore?" Rose asks. She's a beta, but she doesn't worry about being curious like some of the others do.

"I guess not." Rey stabs at her food idly. She never plays with her food. "It never happened to me before."

"On Jakku?" Rey nods, and Rose asks, "But you weren't eating then. You're eating now."

"My body doesn't want just any alpha anymore." In fact, Poe's rut has left her in a constant state of changing her underwear, wasting an unconsionable amount of water washing her few underthings. Her body keeps churning out slick trying to keep her from risking pregnancy by another Alpha in rut. "It wants him."

"Do you want him?"

Rey touches the scent gland on her neck. She doesn't have an answer.

Ben Solo, she wants. Ben Solo makes her whole body feel like a campfire. Warm and Home and Fulfilled and ready to settle into his embrace for three days of positively ruining each other. But Ben Solo doesn't come without Kylo Ren, and Kylo Ren had thought being mated gave him leave to disappoint her.

"He was a shitty alpha," she says instead. "Poe says the whole thing is about … caring for your omega. Nesting, all of it. Giving them what they need. He never did any of that for me."

It's not a real answer. Rose studies her for a moment.

"I wonder where that comes from."

"What?"

"Like, where did Poe learn that?"

"Probably from his mom. She was an alpha too."

Rey stops pushing food around on her plate. Kylo, then, had learned to be a shitty alpha from someone, the same way Poe had learned to be a good one. Rey lifts her gaze to look at Rose, who has her eyebrows arched emphatically.

"That doesn't excuse it."

"I didn't say it did," Rose replies.

But it does make it harder to hold it against him. The more she thinks about it, the more she understands, and understanding makes it impossible to feel anything but compassion.

After all Rey feels too frequently like a failure of an omega for growing up in a situation that has made it impossible for her to accept the usual necessities of alpha-omega dynamics. Letting other people care for her is a skill she has gradually begun to learn only because Leia and Poe are insistent and patient and kind. The supposed instincts of her designation had been bred out by the life she lived — was it not possible the same had become of Ben?

It falls just shy of trying to excuse his behavior. Understanding him doesn't mean allowing him back in, but it does get her thinking about him, and thinking about him spurs the itch of her scent gland.

She blames the smell of Poe and Finn for that in equal measure. Kark Ben and kark alphas and kark her stupid biology.

Alone in her bunk, she strips off her pants. Her underwear have soaked through again, slick leaving them faintly sticky on top of drenched. It's a shiny, foreign substance to her. She'd never secreted it until she'd presented for Ben.

" _You,"_ hisses a voice behind her.

Rey bolts straight up, too defensive to bother over her nakedness. It doesn't matter, anyway. It's nothing Kylo Ren hasn't seen before.

He shouldn't be here. She had tried to shut him out, but the bond was too much. Her whole body thrums with it, and he looks her over in a way that softens some of the anger in his expression — but only incrementally.

"Stay away from me."

She holds out her hand as though to keep him at bay. He's fully dressed, but she can see the way his chest expands with his inhale. The smell of phermones stink up the room, but surely it's not so bad on her. It is to him, though. She can see the way his face colors, jaw tensing with the effort of his self control.

As tempting as she smells, he won't reach for her.

Her alpha doesn't want her.

Panic flutters in her chest. Bad, broken, _worthless_ omega. She couldn't even keep her alpha happy. Her knees quake with it, and her anxiety pours into him openly across the bond.

He stands impassive as ever in the face of it. Probably he thinks she deserves it for leaving him — she's not insulated by the skewed perspective of clueless friends who don't know who she'd begged to bite her, not anymore.

Though the bond does not reveal his surroundings, she can feel the ripples of him knocking something over, then turning to thrash his fist into it. The anger helps focus him. She can't tell if it's plain old alpha anger or the Dark Side, but he doesn't stop until the bond closes.

Rey collapses onto her bunk. Tears blur her vision, but her hand slides between her thighs to relieve the ache that has started up nonetheless, too profound to be ignored.

Over the next few days, she develops a fever. Finn and Poe have recovered, and Finn insists that she stay bedridden.

"I can't," she tells him. "The Resistance needs everyone it's got."

"The Resistance needs you _healthy._ No one's asking you to kill yourself for us."

She complies, and the next day, she sleeps nearly twelve hours. After that, it's Rose who visits her, explaining that Poe doesn't think he and Leia should come near the room.

"You smell," she tells Rey. Rey's frown is offended, so she adds, "Pheromone smell."

"No," Rey says. "I just had my heat a few months ago."

"I talked to Threepio about that."

"You told Threepio to stop translating the Rammahgon so you could ask him about my _pheromones?"_ Rey tries to remember that Rose is trying to help. She exhales slowly, through gritted teeth, and asks, "What did he say?"

"You presented late and mated immediately. Your heat cycle won't be normal for a long time."

Ben's fault. Again.

Rey doubles over, her abdomen pulsing as if on cue. A surge of slick, threatening to keep the other alphas at bay until hers could come to her.

_Stupid body,_ she thought. _He's not coming._

The pain gets worse, and as a result, her sleep is fitful. Only Rose will come to see her, and then, it's mostly in an effort to bring her ice packs to cool her down, occasionally encouraging her to find a way to 'see it through herself.'

"That's a thing you can do," Rose asks, "Right?"

Rey doesn't know.

By the next morning, Rey is in the worst of it. The pain racks her body, and she cannot stop crying to properly wince or groan. Her fingers are stuffed up into her cunt, but even four is not enough in her swollen cunt to abate the pressure.

The door is locked. A good thing, too, because she has taken to keening sounds. Rey cannot make her way to it, so the lock is unnecessary for her. But while she never explicitly begs for Poe or Leia or any other alpha on the base for that matter to come relieve her, she must be making their lives miserable.

Sweating and shivering, she has soaked through her cot with her efforts to fuck her own heat out of her by the time he arrives. It has been hours. Tears have long since stained her face pink, and she has lost all sense.

Like this she cannot even properly appreciate the way his expression fractures on seeing her, the way seeing his omega in such pain wrecks him.

That is instinct. Basic, digestible.

Her eyes go wide with the smell of him, and she lolls her head back to look at him from where she is sprawled on her bunk. There's nothing there behind her eyes, though. Her breath is a rasp, scraping against the back of her throat.

"Alpha," she says. Her voice is gone, a hoarse whisper that tells of the pained cries that have brought her to this place. She does not deserve it. She has disappointed him, run away from him. She is a poor omega, a bad mate, but still she asks, "Please. I can be good for you."

This time he doesn't turn away from her.

She sits up as he comes for her, and he grabs her hair to pull her head where he wants it, teeth biting into her neck. Rey's whole body comes alive as his wrist brushes that scent gland in her neck and she writhes, a pulse of electric heat rolling through her.

"No," she whines. "No, I need—"

Foreplay was for twelve hours ago. Twenty hours ago.

"I know what you need," Kylo says, and for all that he's a shitty alpha, she believes him. He kneels down between her thighs, gets his pants down as far as he can get them before he loses it and plunges inside of her.

The cold wave of relief is instantaneous, just like his arousal upon seeing his writhing, hungry mate. Already he is hot and thick and ready for her, already he makes her sing. Rey's hands scramble at his shoulders, her nails searching for purchase in his skin. He fends her off, pinning her arms above her.

Her legs wind around him though, pulling him into her, begging to set the pace.

"Oh," she pants. "Oh, yes, Alpha, yes. Thank you, Alpha."

It's a hideous and unintelligible slur of praise, none of which Kylo reacts to. He just keeps pounding into her, steady if inexpert. None of that matters now, though, when bonding hormones have taken hold. It's not so long before both of them are tumbling over the edge. Her body wrings him, and he starts to pull out as his knot starts. He doesn't want to be stuck with her.

Tears burn her eyes as Rey forces him flush against her with all the force of her thighs. She won't let him leave. She chokes out a sob, soothed as his knot swells, locking them together.

A reedy whine comes out of her and she nuzzles against his neck, her nails notching into his shoulder blades to hold him there. And Kylo, he just heaves, his breath sharp and uneven. Panicked, she thinks. He'll be so unhappy with her for holding him there, for taking this. It's every omega part of her that she hates, but she can't help it. The alternative hurts too much.

They're quiet. Only the ragged rasp of breath. Usually this is the part where the alpha provides much needed assurance, something to ease the pain, to assure their omega that all those needy sentiments are reciprocated.

Kylo cannot do that. They are not reciprocated.

"I'm not sorry," she says savagely, against every instinct in her body.

"Why would you be?" If he's surprised, she can't feel it over the bond. "This is what you wanted."

The palliative effects of his knot on her temper make her arrogant enough to dare think for a moment that she should not have held him here at all. But he would be gone, then, and she would be alone to the rest of her heat.

"If you hadn't—" She bites down on it. "It could have been someone else."

He grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls hard, drawing her back to look him in the eye. The dilating of his pupils makes them look like coals, scorching her, and Rey withers under that hard stare.

"Never," he tells her. "You're mine."

It sounds true. Feels true. Her scalp stings in all the right ways and his words resonate deep in her bones.

But he'd given her up.

"You don't want me." The accusation comes out venomous. "You just don't want anyone else to have me. But I was _alone,_ Ben. And it _hurt."_

Tears trickle down her cheeks, burning, itchy, distracting. She can feel his panic response heighten. The smell is all wrong, across the tunnel of space, but his anxiety feeds into hers. He is not content. He has not lost himself. Her alpha is — _Disappointed_.

His gaze flits around her face, and she watches it happen. He grapples to puzzle through what will make her feel better. Rose had been right. The better part of alpha instincts were still there. He just didn't know how to reach for them.

"I want you," he says.

"Tell me." Her voice is hoarse still. The words come out strained.

"Your smell—" His cock twitches inside of her, his knot going down. Rey shudders, sucks in a breath. It stirs a heady dose of hormones. He leans down and drags his tongue over her gland, scenting her, and she grows dizzy with it. The tension leaves her body, just like that. "You should be here with me. I can give you everything you want, everything you deserve. The galaxy. It's yours, all yours."

It's alpha bullshit that he has sold her before, but in heat it makes her blood sing. She gasps and thrusts her hips to start riding him. He's still hard inside of her, and with his knot going down, she's getting some friction. Just enough to have her body shivering.

He sucks in a breath, and Rey watches his reaction with hawkish eyes. These are the little ways in which she sees him wonder over her.

"Have I been good for you, Alpha?"

"Yes." He practically _growls,_ and it makes Rey preen. He takes to it, responds to the warmth spreading across the bond like its own form of worship. He has scarcely experience such success. "You feel so good. My omega, mine."

It's a dizzy, drunk thing to say, and only then does it occur to her that he is as lost to her heat as she is. Good. It might be the only way they'll get along, presently. But it can carry them through this day.

"Tell me how to make it good for you." She slips off of his cock then, his cum dribbling out with too much slick.

But he doesn't tell her. He turns her over on his own, instead, forcing her flush against the cot and mounting her from behind. The fit is easy, despite the size of him. She has been ready for this. Her knees spread, and she arches back into him. His hand comes to rest on her back to hold her down, keep her where he wants her.

"Stay," he growls, grabbing her hair again to yank her back towards him. It bows her back, but she howls out a moan. "That's my good girl."

"Yours," she whimpers in agreement, the sound of his voice prickling the skin on the back of her neck. "All yours, just yours."

He grunts out, thrusting harder into her.

"Please." Elongated, high pitched — "Is my cunt good for you?"

"Perfect," he tells her. "You take my cock so well, Rey; you were made just for me. So responsive, such a sweet little omega."

The cry she gives is louder this time, encouraging.

"Do you want my knot? Have you been aching for it?"

"Yes, Alpha." Flecks of spit scatter as she erupts with her reply. "I need it. I need it; I need you. Please, oh please."

The rest is slurred into a single desperate string of incoherent syllables. Rey tries to rut back against him, but Ben holds her steady, praises her further for how she fits around him, how hot and tight and wet she is, and when she comes again, her eyes roll up.

This time he carries her through it intead of chasing his own. He keeps his grip on her hair, but reaches around her hip to start to toy with her clit, keeping her tight around him and prolonging that climax.

"Oh," she sobs. "I can't. I can't. It's too much, Alpha, it's —"

But through her tears she continues thrashing, convulsing, and her cunt gives a weak spasm that signals a third orgasm, drawn out of the ripples of the second. Only then does he lose himself in her.

This time he doesn't try to pull back as his knot swells, spilling hot cum into her, filling her with warmth, with his scent. She sprawls her legs wide, curls her fingers into the mattress, a perfect, overtired picture of contentment as he buries his face against her shoulder.

Rey's stranglehold on the bond keeps him there. It should be impossible that the bond stays open this long, but even after Rey wakes up from a nap she hadn't meant to take, he's still inside of her. He looks peaceful when he sleeps, deceptively so. He does not look like the enemy, like the Supreme Leader of the First Order.

It's only when a longer sleep takes her, one after her fever has broken, that she wakes up alone. Her heat has passed, and as she showers off the slick and airs out her bunk, it is Leia who comes to visit her.

"You made it through?" she asks idly.

It's not the kind of thing most people like to hear about, but Leia is an alpha who has survived her mate, and she maybe knows something of what it's like to lose that bond. Rey does not know how to articulate that it has survived, so she fumbles over it.

"Yeah."

"On your own?" Rey looks her in the eye, and she can see that Leia knows. The General reaches up and pulls a lock of Rey's freshly cleaned hair in front of her shoulder, covering up her scent gland. "You stink like him. Why don't you come with me so we can talk?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to follow me and send prompts via asks to ~scavengertrash on Tumblr. Comments let me know I'm doing a good job, and work great as extra kudos.


	8. Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following Snoke's defeat, Rey is married to Kylo on the Supremacy and held in the First Order. With no one else to look to for training, she makes the mistake one day of asking him about the Jedi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a big warning for edgeplay, severe dubcon, object insertion, lightsaber insertion, weaponplay, dirty talk, BDSM dynamics, and painful sex.

Rey's husband had the temperament of a spoiled child.

Ben (she will not give him the satisfaction of 'Kylo Ren' or, worse, 'Supreme Leader') often got carried away in his wimsies and would hear no complaint against them. Once he had an idea in his head, persuading him to surrender it was like prying the motivator out of a Star Destroyer's core.

She couldn't be terribly surprised. This particular trait had ended her up with the First Order to begin with — no one had been able to discourage him from taking a Jedi captive to make her his Empress, and Rey had not been able to relieve him of the absurd notion that he had any business ruling. However, it had not been so perfectly clear to her until one night when she made the mistake of asking him,

"You trained under Skywalker. You could teach me the ways of the Jedi."

Most others found Ben's fury to be an unchecked wild thing, a fire raging out of control that could erupt at any moment. All the heat of a supernova without any of the gradual collapse. Directed at Rey, however, it was cold and snappish. Brittle like frost, and defensive like prey more than predator.

"The Jedi are gone," he replied.

"You're not." Rey didn't see the issue. He took issue with his uncle, of course, but his uncle was dead like his father and like Snoke, and there was no risk from any of them anymore. It wasn't as though Rey had suggested he erect a kriffing monument to Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master. So she repeated, "You could teach me."

He had wanted that once, after all.

"What do you know of them?"

Rey told him, and he scoffed.

"I'd _like_ to know more."

"Because you want to be a Jedi," Ben observed.

"Yes."

"Even though you have no concept of what it means."

Crisply, he set his book aside. Rey had never in her life seen so many real books as she saw Ben accrue since the time he had sat himself on Snoke's throne. He had a different one every day, she swore, but he only ever seemed to read the boring ones.

And he _never_ allowed himself to be interrupted in reading them. She sat up suddenly, perking up to consider that she might have finally won his attention from them. Attention to her training could be a foothold to abandon all of this nonsense; it was her only hope in her present circumstances.

"Take off your clothes."

They had been through this before. It was an inevitability of proximity. They were drawn to one another like magnets, and Rey had established quite early that if he was going to keep her here, she'd have her marriage rights.

So she got his body and his bed. But she didn't want that now — she wanted the Jedi.

"I thought this was about the Jedi."

"It is. Take off your clothes and bring me your lightsaber."

Often she wondered if he allowed her to keep it with the purpose of insulting her. Using it would not do her any good to solve the problem she had stayed to solve. _He_ was the problem, and she could not kill him. She had only her patience and her stubbornness as real weapons.

She scrambled to her feet and pulled it out from the bottom drawer of the nightstand she shared with him. When she brought it back, she was bare, discarded clothes littering the path leading her back to him like breadcrumbs.

"Here," he gestured, and she knelt before where he sat on the lounge in their shared quarters. The impassivity of his features belied a darkness there, but she could feel it ripple across the bond they shared. "Give that to me."

Perhaps foolishly, she trusted him, handing over the lightsaber hilt. He held it level with her face, the ignition side pointed straight between her eyes.

"Open your mouth."

" _Why?"_

He reached up behind her head, threading his gloved fingers through her hair. She grunted, ready to resist, turning her face away, but his grip was too firm and he said, "Because I have commanded it."

And there it was. The lesson leapt out at her. Ben Solo, the oversized toddler, got these ideas in his head, and he did not like for anyone to interrogate the sense of them. She gritted her teeth.

"If you don't want to show—"

Another grunt slipped out as steel clacked against her teeth, the smooth casing pushing past the pink of her lips. Sounds of protest smothered by the hilt on her tongue. The metal was tainted by dirt and lingering ozone. It tasted like battle. Begrudgingly she opened her jaw wider, making room for the thick cyllinder. She wouldn't be able to keep him _out,_ that much was sure, but she was steely-eyed and stifling a growl.

"That's better."

She could have killed him where he sat. Instead he nudged the lightsaber deeper. His movements were almost loving, but not enough to properly fool her. She grunted as some of the uneven edges of the hilt caught on her teeth and jabbed into her soft inner cheek.

"You wanted this so badly," he said, watching her as though transfixed on the image. "I thought you'd be happier. You're not trying at all."

She couldn't reply, of course. By his design. But he took to thrusting the saber into her mouth and when she realized she couldn't squirm away, Rey succumbed. The fastest way out of this was through it. He was punishing her for daring to ask after the Jedi, that much was obvious. That was fine.

They wouldn't be here forever, she knew, and the texts from Luke's island were still aboard the Falcon. She would be fine. She just had to survive long enough.

Resolving herself, Rey leaned into it, opening her mouth wider. Her eyes drifted shut and she moaned around the steel casing. Kylo must have been surprised by her sudden compliance, for he didn't budge.

It's not an easy slide. And all the while, she is keenly aware that as she draws back, his thumb could slide and ignite it. If that happened, there was no coming back to the Resistance. No texts on the _Falcon._ No Jedi. Rey opened her eyes, studying his face.

A white-hot pulse of rage rippled through him.

This was the other way in which he was a child, she discovered. If someone took what he wanted from him, _especially_ control, he knew no other way to respond but to lash out.

He pulled her back hard by the hair, and Rey gasped as she broke off the saber.

"You want to be a Jedi?" He asked.

The answer was yes, but Rey knew better than to say it now, as he gripped tight to her saber and got to his feet, throwing her against the couch. With her face pressed into one of the leather cushions, he got his other arm around her to pull up her hips.

"Say it, Rey."

He did not really want her to, but his hand cracked against her skin, too hard. It was not playful, not for the sound but for the bruise that would form. Her grunt of pain would not be enough to dissuade him.

"Yes," she told him, voice thick.

"No." He snarled, and she finally got it. What this was all about. He wanted to show her the pain he associated with them, the way it had torn him asunder. Without it, she'd never really understand.

Rey's eyes pressed shut all the same when she felt him force the hilt of her lightsaber against her entrance. She didn't want to feel it. She didn't want him to have felt it, either. It was hollow, the base wide and flat and thin in a way that only prodded at her uncomfortably.

His frustration was a silent thing, but he regrouped, using his fingers to start spreading her so he could fit part of it in, stretching her around the thick device. Anticipation had made her wet, and his fingers only fed her body's response, even as she dreaded what she knew was coming. As uncomfortable as it had been in her mouth, it would be worse squeezed in her cunt.

He knew that, of course.

Even when it first went in, though, the thickness betrayed her by daring to feel satisfying. Rey shuddered, gripped the lone pillow in front of her.

"Show me how much you want it, Rey," he whispered in her ear.

He'd turn her own want for connection to the Jedi into a weapon against her. A cruel way to teach a lesson. She tensed, her legs rigid, and he pulled on her hips to start rocking her back. He held the lightsaber tightly enough that when her hips slid back, it pushed in, and the uneven bits were not nearly as satisfying. Something caught on her folds and she felt a white-hot pain with tearing. Then he let go.

"Show me," she heard him say. The wet sound of him sucking her fluids off his thumb followed.

Gripping hard to the pillow, Rey obeyed. There was no way around pain, and she could not fear it. She could only go through it. So she rocked herself back, but her cunt fluttered and tightened against the intrusion of the uneven components, trying to force the object out.

"That's it," Kylo coached her.His words did little to soothe the discomfort.

She slid down the hilt halfway, her whole body shaking with it, sweat beading on her forehead. It took a series of false starts, trying to push back, and then wiggling to and fro to get a piece slick enough with her own forced arousal to allow her to take it.

But she reached the fins at the bottom and stopped, each thin ridge threatening to cut into her entrance.

"Do you still want to be a Jedi?" he asked.

She couldn't give him the answer he wanted, so she gave him none.

"Then move."

He helped her set a pace by holding his hand on her back, and she rocked on and off the lightsaber with too much caution. Despite the discomfort, despite the knicks and pinches and jabbing components, moisture dribbled out of her, a thin milky layer coating the metal. She carried on slowly enough to keep it from truly crossing into an unbearable pain.

When she had maintained a rhythm, he started trying to push it deeper at the end, causing a tension to pulse in the muscles of her abdomen. She turned her face down into the cushion.

"No," he said. "I want to see you."

So she raised her head, and he rewarded her — rewarded her letting go of her back, and allowing her to keep the pace they'd found together while he reached around to toy with her clit.

"What do you think will happen if you come, Rey?" He sounded curious, detached. "Will your tight little cunt activate it?"

Her breath shuddered. She squirmed in an effort to evade the gentle circles of his finger, but he leaned forward to pin her further against the couch.

"That's it."

Held fast, her labored breath escalating steadily to cries, she tumbled over the edge, clamping down around the intrusive weapon. It did not, as it turned out, ignite. But the fluttering pressure of her inner walls did cause it to gouge her painfully, and she whimpered, soft little cries that caused he to twitch in his arms.

"It's alright," he said. "It's alright. This is what they do. But you're with me, now."

He stayed with her, holding her to him as he drew that weapon out, set it alongside her. Her fingers brushed the cum-slicked steel, but she did not reach to close her fist around it as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. He wrapped both arms around her middle and kissed at her shoulder as though bringing her down from soem point he'd pushed her to willingly. Like he really was her husband, not a boy in a tantrum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are a great way to leave extra kudos! Don't be afraid to follow me on Tumblr (~scavengertrash) and send me asks with extra prompts.


	9. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of sorts from Ch. 6 (Fooled). Kylo and Rey might not like each other right now, but there's no denying the magnetism between them as they hook up across the Force bond. In fact Kylo could do with mentioning that magnetism a little bit less. He's really kicking the dead luggabeast at this point. Rey takes a stab at fixing that problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't get a chance to finish/post this one yesterday because I'm traveling. The kink prompts were gags and creampie, so there's no MAJOR warnings (for once) except the hatesex continuation and some possessiveness.

She prefers when he isn't talking.

It's a pity because the sound of his voice by itself is a pleasant thing, a low timber that rumbles through her bloodstream and pools in her belly when he promises to split her open on his cock, when he tells her how well she takes it and how good she looks.

The problem is that more often, he's not saying those things. He's telling her about how she'll never be as important to her friends as she is to him, or how they would rebuke her if they knew what she did with him in the shadow of space, or how he could give her everything, everything, and no one would ever be able to hurt them again if she would just _join him._

And nothing in the known galaxy makes her go bone dry faster.

Kylo, either not noticing or not caring that his persistence sours her, has taken it up again, wedged squarely between her thighs, bent over her as he rocks rhythmically but forcefully, bruising her pelvis as he forces her down into the bunk. Or, perhaps, from his end, into the floor or the desk or whatever else he sees. She has decided not to overthink it.

"Mine."

He follows this forceful insistence up by digging his teeth into her throat. Rey yelps, for it makes the walls of her cunt ripple around him, twitching with excitement, but she reaches up to plant her hand on his sternum all the same, forcing him back.

As if he were genuinely confused by her irritation, he asks, "You deny it?"

"I don't want to have to explain _bruises._ "

"Because you're ashamed?" A smirk settles onto his mouth. "You wouldn't need to hide anything if—"

Reaching over to the plot beside her where she has discarded her underwear, Rey grabs the scrap of cotton and shoves it into his open mouth. So repulsed is he (laughably, if she is honest; he has never once complained at having to taste her, no matter how long she has kept him down there) that he recoils, brow furrowed, and raises his hand to pull the fabric free.

Rey grabs his wrist.

"No," her voice is husky with renewed desire. "Leave it."

His brow furrows further. A criticism of her, as easily observed in his mind as if it were in her own — she is the loud one. If anyone should wear a gag, it's her. No one on her end, after all, can hear _his_ grunts and moans.

It's fair catch. She doesn't hear it.

"Deal with it."

He breaks his wrist free of her grip in order to grab her by the underneath of her knees, pushing her legs back to fold her on herself and muster a deeper angle. Rey's cry is soft, as much a product of surprise and consideration as it is of any particular pleasure. But then another comes, and another. He holds her firmly in place all the while, Rey playing the role of the ragdoll to his renewed vigor and fury.

There's a purpose to it; his resolve is singular in focus, overwhelming even the shameful sting of arousal she can pick up from him. Despite his complaints, he likes her sharp demands.

Rey grabs a fistful of the sheets over her head, tension coiling in her belly, trickling down (up?) through her legs until her toes curl with it and she can't catch her breath. This time he doesn't stop in time to keep her from coming, to entice her to some further encounter.

It is the flutter of her cunt that triggers his own climax, and only then does he spill out into her. The makeshift gag of her underwear muffles the sounds he makes, but they are nevertheless clear and feral and unreserved.

Warmth floods her. He releases one of her legs, and it feels both stiff and boneless somehow, stretching pleasantly. But when she starts to drop it back to her cot, he grabs her again.

The underwear in his mouth twitches with an effort to push it out. Rey laughs. He must be trying to strike a bargain of some kind, so she gingerly pulls the fabric from his mouth. Saliva makes them damp. She'll need to hang them out for a bit before putting them back on.

"What?"

"Hold it in," he tells her.

 _"What?"_ Repeated, this time, with incredulity.

"I want you to keep my cum in you all day. You need to remember who you allow to do this to you when you're looking them in the eyes."

It's such an absurd demand, she almost doesn't know how to react.

"That's why you're holding me like this?"

"Yes."

"What am I supposed to do, Ben, walk around on my hands?"

She shoves him back and he settles onto the bottom of the cot, looking altogether unintimidating with his eyes dark and begrudging and his hair a mess and his face flushed and his cock out and still wet with her. Undignified, really. He doesn't look like a monster, like a man who fancies himself master of the galaxy.

"You're ridiculous."

Already his spend has begun to drip out of her as she rights herself, trickling along the curve of her ass, leaving her whole body damp and sticky. He pouts, and she won't correct him with the knowledge that she happens to vastly prefer the feeling of his cum dripping out of her while she works alongside Poe on getting salvaged fighters operational again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make for great extra kudos! Follow me on Tumblr and drop me an ask (scavengertrash) if you have a specific prompt you're looking for.


	10. Naboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben sneak around once he's turned himself over to the New Republic on Naboo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think this has any content warnings, but it's gonna make up for the lack of cunnilingus in this set and it's for the Kinktober intercrural sex prompt. With a side of dry-humping, per request.

No one else on the base knows about it yet.

They'd been careful, ever since he arrived, sneaking around, casting longing looks across the room. Truth be told, they hadn't had much opportunity to confront what this meant for them either in the chaos of the war's final notes. Rey was too busy helping mediate between diplomats, and Ben was too busy with deposition after deposition trying to find ways to hold him accountable for war crimes.

No one could decide what would be done with him.

Eventually they settled on house arrest, at least for a while. It put him in the Jafan Wing of the Theed Royal Palace on Naboo while negotiations continued for rebuilding the Republic. His presence was never welcome. The Jafan Wing, however, was on the opposite side of a labyrinth of corridors from Rey's space on the plaza side of the palace.

There was no way to go to him without others knowing, so she declared her intent.

"Why would you want to talk to that guy?" Poe sounded critical, even when he didn't mean to. "I heard he's out of his mind."

"Then I'd like to know that for sure." Rey shook her head. "I can't just ignore him. He's all that's left of the Jedi Order."

Finn was sold on helping her — "I trust you," he said, and she felt a pang of guilt — and Poe and Rose were both quickly recruited as a result. They escorted her around the guard patrols that Poe had helped set up, and got Rey to his front door.

"Just be careful," Finn insisted.

She slipped inside with just a smile, and shut the door behind her.

The wing was large enough that it made it hard to pity him, precisely. More than a few ships could fit inside the central sitting room alone, and there were multiple attached bedrooms. A number of luxurious couches and tables were set around, as well as decorations from every era of Nabooan art. She found Kylo sitting out on the balcony across the space. He turned away from the landscape and lowered his fountain pen — _a real pen! —_ to chase the sound of her entry.

Neither of them moved beyond that for a few moments. Theirs had always been an uneasy alliance, forged as much by hope and desperation as anything else. What could they be, without those conditions bearing down on them?

Ben got to his feet first, then glanced around as if he didn't know what to do now that he had stood.

"Hi," he said finally, crossing into the sitting room. He shut the door to the balcony behind him. "Did Leia send you?"

"Your mother, you mean?" He looked chastised, and Rey softened. She wasn't here for that. "No. I wanted to come."

"Sit," he said. Then as though he recognized it as the order it was, he added, "If you want."

Rey sat on the couch, and Ben took the seat beside her.

"I can get you water —"

"No."

They sat instead in an uncomfortable silence for some time. Rey didn't like that. It didn't come easily to her, this awkwardness that seemed to control other people's social interactions. She had picked up on it with some of the other members of the Resistance, but most of all in the diplomacy meetings. No one said what they meant.

"You came back."

It sounded like an accusation.

Ben, it seemed, was similarly possessed of no knack for social subtleties because he said, "I came back weeks ago. I thought I'd see you sooner."

"Did you?"

Of course he did. They allowed him visitors, but he couldn't go anywhere. Who _else_ would have visited him, but for Chewbacca and Leia? A surge of guilt struck her then, but Rey's expression didn't change.

"I …" Ben looked down at his hands.

"I know." She interrupted, reaching for his hand. The sudden skin contact provided a more acute awareness of each other's emotions, but it also shocked him. He looked up, brow furrowed, searching her.

But of course she knew. He'd come back because of her, because she'd shown him what it could mean to be connected to people again. And when he'd been isolated and she'd gone this long without reaching for him, it felt like a rejection. It'd felt pointless.

She'd have to be a fool to miss it. She _had_ been a fool.

"Rey."

He searched her face, but his dark eyes lingered on her lips.

Rey, well, she'd never been one for self control. She kissed him then, a sloppy and inexpert press of lips that didn't go any further. But Ben, he knew what to do. He cradled the back of her head, pried open her lips with his own, and exposed his own hunger. She'd only scarcely glimpsed it, most often attached to violence. A current awoke in her to find that he hungered similarly for her.

How many nights had she given up fighting it and stuffed her hands into her underwear to relieve herself of the images of him? And he was the same.

She slipped onto his lap, caging his hips between her thighs.Ben drew a sharp breath, breaking the kiss to look up at her. It was the look of someone who'd just discovered who hung the stars in the sky. A look that Rey could not help thinking she did not deserve.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she rolled her hips forward and only a croaking sound came out. Shame rolled off him as his hands settled to her hips.

"It's okay," she said on the off chance he meant to still her or apologize for the firm weight she felt as she rutted forward against him. Those words seemed insufficient, somehow, to showing how she appreciated feeling the proof of her effect on him. He was rock hard and straining his pants as she looked down.

She reached down and palmed him through his pants. Rey was not an expert, she'd never touched anyone like this before, but she was surprised by how thick and long he was. She wet her lips in earnest and added, "Can I?"

"Whatever you want."

She slid her hands up into his hair, tugging at fistfuls of it as she rolled her hips forward again, trying to find just the right friction to — _ah, there._ The seam of her pants pressed down into her clit as she rolled against the hard counterweight of his cock. She shuddered, muscles tightening to hold there against him. Staying still would do nothing, though; it cost her friction.

A flush crept into his face as she rocked her hips back and forth, gliding along the obscured shape of his cock. His lips parted, puffing out heavy breaths between them, which occasionally hitched or strained as she rutted their bodies together.

His hands slid up her back, under her shirt, and the direct contact nearly undid her. Rey whimpered, burying her face in his neck.

"Tell me what you want," he begged.

_"Everything."_

She didn't know any other way to be. Worse, she lacked the vocabulary and experience for specifics, but she knew she wanted him to bring her over the edge. She wanted to understand and explore his body. She wanted—

He nudged her back and she looked at him, wide-eyed. It wasn't rejection, it was—

"Take off your clothes."

It was the first demand he'd ever made of her that she was eager to comply with. Rey staggered up onto her feet in front of him and began stripping down. There was nothing indulgent about it, and after she had removed her belt, he reached up to grip her hips and said, "Slower."

Heat burned in her cheeks, but she complied, even when she removed her boots. That didn't do anything, but when she peeled away her shirt, and her pants, and her underwear, she watched Ben start to palm his erection through his pants.

Only then did she realize that he wasn't getting undressed.

"You too," she said firmly.

"I don't have anything," he sounded strained admitting it. "I didn't think—"

"Anything for what?" He leaned in and kissed her, starting with her abdomen, and the sentiment struck her. "Oh."

Surprise left her more malleable than usual as he repositioned her, laying her out on the couch so he could crawl between her thighs.

"But I can give you this," he said, and he spread her thighs apart. His hands were so large that he could practically grip her whole thigh in each. The awareness of his size made her squirm, hips wriggling.

He kissed first at the hollow of her hip, then up the inside of her thigh, then down from her bellybutton until she was writhing and cursing. She forced him to where she wanted him with a brutal grip on his hair that pulled and made him hiss in gratitude, and once there, he lapped vigorously at her slit, spreading her open with each lave of his tongue.

He leaned closer, thrusting his tongue repeatedly into her opening as though he meant to lubricate her that way for an act he would not perform. It provided little satisfaction, but made her anticipate what she couldn't have, and for that she moaned. _Bastard._

Chuckling as if he had picked up her thought, he brought his tongue up to her clit, flicking it without any predictable rhythm. She convulsed with each assault, as a result, and between attacks, she realized that he might well have heard that thought. She could feel the bond between them humming, _singing,_ blooming as skin found skin. She spread her fingertips down along his neck, into the collar of his shirt, searching for more.

Any further metaphysical considerations were lost to the jab of his tongue. The unpredictable tempo kept her from ever being prepared, and so each time, she ached and strained for any hint of contact, and then the brutal force overwhelmed her. Over and over, inching her closer to some climax.

" _Please,"_ she urged him. "I'm close."

The attention of his tongue grew softer then, still insistent, soothing her before he started to suck at her clit. Even then, it wasn't quite enough.

"I need you," she rasped. "Inside."

He didn't cave in the way she'd meant him to. His cock did not stretch her open, press inside and make her whole. Instead two of his fingers nudged at her opening and he twisted them on each thrust. The alternate stretching of his penetration — his fingers were so much bigger than hers, _so much better —_ and soft lapping sensation at her clit sent her tumbling over the edge. She cried out and spots of color clouded her vision, dazing her.

Too loud. He reached up and clamped his hand over her mouth to smother it.

Rey's eyes snapped wide, and Ben slowed the thrusts of his fingers as he finished lapping her through the rippling convulsions of her climax.

"Shh," he told her. "Don't let them know."

_Or_ , he didn't say, _they wont let you come back._

She nodded vigorously, and only then did he let up on her hand.

His face was smeared with her slick, beautiful and shining as though she had marked it as hers, marked _him_ as belonging to her. She reached down to stroke the side of his face, soft and loving and steady, fingertips lingering on his cheekbones, on his lips.

"What about you?" she asked.

"Next time."

"No." Her brow furrowed, she said, "Let me."

She felt his push back in the Force. He wasn't quite ready to be that vulnerable, to let her do for him what he had just done for her. Rey grappled for a compromise.

"You asked what I wanted. I want to see you too."

Ben held her gaze for a long moment, then stripped off his shirt. Greedy as if she hadn't just had the best orgasm of her life, she drank him in, watching the way arousal had his skin shining with a fine layer of sweat. He looked beautiful. And when he opened his pants, he looked more beautiful still.

His cock was darker than the rest of him, slightly red as it engorged with blood, big enough to look both threatening and promising. Just like him.

_Stars,_ she wanted it. She was ready and wet and relaxed. He must have seen it in her eyes because he grabbed her legs and pressed them together, lifting them up over one of his shoulders.

"Hey," she groused, until she felt the fat head of his cock pressing against her. She shivered with it, squirmed and panted as she felt him notch briefly in her opening before sliding along the length of her wet slit. " _Oh."_

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he said. "Or I won't."

Looking up at him, she saw something dark in his eyes, and she believed him. He'd given himself over to the hunger now too instead of focusing on her.

"I won't," she promised.

Just then, it felt like there was nothing he could do that wouldn't have her squirming and begging for more. He didn't look pleased by that answer, but he didn't let it stop him either. He pushed her thighs together, and the head of his cock slid between the compressed flesh of her inner thighs.

It was a strange feeling, one that stirred a tingling anticipation in her already sensitive cunt without providing any real relief. That, as far as Rey was concerned, was a good thing. With her ankles hooked over one of his shoulders and one of his arms hugging her to him, she could look up and focus on the way his expression contorted with the raw pleasure he chased in her body.

"Good," she praised him. "That's it."

He settled into a steady pace, thrusting between her thick thigh muscles. She flexed them, trying to squeeze around him, and he cried out. It was a softer noise than she'd ever expected to hear from him, surprised out by the sudden satisfaction.

"Kriff," he turned his head to kiss at her knees. "Do it again."

"Ask," she returned.

When their eyes met his pupils were ragged with pleasure. He pushed her legs down to the side, away from his chest, twisting her hips to the side so he could loom over her as he thrust up between her legs again, more roughly this time. As if to mime what he could be doing to her cunt to punish her for talking back.

It made her eyes flutter briefly shut, anticipation drawing a shudder from her.

"Oh, Rey," he marveled at her reaction. That made her preen, but not half as much as when he then said, "Please. Please do it again."

And she did.

She found that keeping her thighs constantly tense wouldn't work. Like with his tongue, it had to be sporadic, had to surprise him. He fucked that tight valley of flesh until he was panting, until his fingertips left bruises in her thigh with the effort of holding her legs down, while the other hand fisted the couch cushion.

He was close.

"Come for me," she whispered. "I want to see you, Ben."

And he did, with a feral sound. Thick ropes of opaque fluid spurted between her thighs, sticking to her abdomen and the couch pillow beneath her, and the pace of his hips stuttered as he chased out to the last of it, until she could feel him dribbling, sticky and shrinking between her thighs.

He hunched over her, breathing hard, while he tried to come back to himself. It didn't work until he let his knees buckle and carry him to the floor in front of the couch instead of hovering over her, but that pulled his wet dick free of her thighs, spreading the sticky mess.

Rey rotated her hips back, stretching her thighs open for him, welcoming his torso between them. Even panting and spent, he looked her over like he wanted another taste. She glowed with that tacit praise.

As they recovered, she reached down to smear her fingers through the trail of his come.

"Do you like how I taste?" she asked.

"Yes." His voice was a rumble against her chest, where he'd found his peace.

She brought his cum to her lips and pressed her tongue out to lap it off her fingers. Slowly, hearing the sound, he looked up at her. His pupils widened further. The taste, she could take or leave — salty, brackish — but the look on his face … She put her whole finger in her mouth and sucked at it like she was craving more.

Before they could get caught up again, though, there was a knock at the door.

"Rey," said Rose from the other side. "General Organa's coming by soon! You need to leave."

In an exchange of panicked expressions, Rey and Ben scrambled away from each other and went for their clothes. Even if Organa weren't here by the time they were put together again, Rose at the door had them _both_ wondering  — just how long had her friends been there, and how much had they heard? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at ~scavengertrash and send me an ask if you want a prompt filled! Thanks for reading, and please comment if you liked it.


	11. Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey teases the Supreme Leader across their Force bond by sucking him off during briefings until he finally explodes and puts her in her place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter include severe dubcon on both sides, face-fucking, D/S dynamics, dirty talk, and sadism/masochism, but also the kinks that were prompts for today including 69, body worship, and nipple play.

He wants her to stop.

Rey can feel it rippling off of him, along with a healthy dose of frustration, but both are a pale, wan thing beside the fire of his arousal. She kneels in front of her cot, her hands braced on his knees while she sucks down his cock, wet sounds hitting repeatedly in the back of her throat while Kylo tries to smother his own stirring reactions.

But she can see from down here how flushed his face is, how short his breath has become. He is barely holding it together.

She's not _positive_ as to where he is right now, but he has said nothing to her, and he is sitting, so she has guessed that the answer is a meeting of some kind. If she cannot pick the information being exchanged out of his mind — and he will not let her — then the best she can do is distract him so that he can do nothing with it either.

As his eyes flutter shut for a moment too long, he reaches down to grab a fistful of her hair and dug her back off him, forcing out a heavy, trembling exhale that fights to control himself. _Stop,_ it insists, but she only moans at the sting.

He may be preoccupied, but she is the only one on the base. She has no such compunctions about quiet.

"You taste so good," she tells him. Her fist finds his length then to continue pumping him while only her tongue can dart out to reach the head of his cock while he grips her hair, even as she strains against the hold. "I want to swallow your cum, Kylo; let me."

She can feel him shiver, and he gives slightly. Rey nuzzles her cheek against his slick shaft, humming, before she bobs down to take him in again. A hum slips out of her, halfway to a moan for how grateful it is to have her lips stretched around him again.

This time, she is the one in control when she pops off.

"So big." Her tongue darts out to wet the tip between sentences, but her hands keep pumping all the while. Both of them, together. "Are you going to split me open? Let me ride you? No one else can see me. No one needs to know how well I take your perfect cock."

His hand has clenched into a fist, and he pounds it on — something. The noise doesn't transfer, but she can see it stop abruptly where the tabletop must be.

" _Get out,"_ he snarls, but not to her.

She climbs into his lap then, leaving behind her pants without bothering with her shirt and sash at all. It's overeager, but she doesn't care.

"You can't wait, can you?" She kisses her way along his jaw, holding his face steady. "Neither can I."

He twitches like he means to remove her, but he doesn't. Not for some moments, not until she is getting ready to take him into her cunt. He comes alive like lightning, gripping her hips with bruising force and turning his gaze directly on her for the first time as she draws back quick as a whip, eyes wide.

"You." His voice is a damning hiss. It thrills her. But as she opens her mouth to reply, he gets up off the cot — a chair, she thinks — and hoists her onto her feet. "You will wait as long as I tell you."

He pushes her then, down to the floor. She's struck by it at first, more when he comes to kneel but not between her thighs. Neither of them seem to be able to affect each other with the Force across space like this, so when he holds her down, he does it the old fashioned way and comes to straddle her face.

"Is this what you want?" His balls drag against her face, and Rey sputters slightly. She makes to turn away, but he grabs her throat and holds her. "Open your mouth. You want my cock so badly, I'll give it to you."

For a moment she holds on, but then she croaks out a sound, her lungs desperately convulsing to try and pull air down, and he stuffs his cock down her throat instead. It's too far too fast and she gags, but he doesn't pull out all the way. Just enough to thrust in again. Pressing her eyes shut, she can feel tears form as he fucks into her throat, holding her here.

"Kriff." She has scarcely heard him curse, but for in moments like this. "Your mouth, Rey. I would have kept you here just for this."

She moans around him.

"Do you wish I had? Do you wish that all you had to do was open your mouth and wait for a cock to fill it?"

While he's fucking her face, she can't properly answer, but she does reach between her thighs to go for her cunt. He takes notice, though, for his free hand slaps hers away.

"Greedy," he warns her, his voice thick and warm like syrup. Deceptively pleasant, the way it rumbles low in his chest. Rey whines and arches her hips against nothing. It isn't fair that she shouldn't be able to make herself come while he gets off down her throat. "You don't get to decide what happens to you. You're just a thing for me to _fuck,_ Rey."

He's taking this a little too seriously, she thinks, but she's also no longer in a position to complain. This is a specific sort of revenge he's found, an outburst she suspects she has been pushing him towards steadily in all the ways she has tormented him. He'd offered her the galaxy, and she had refused him; now he will take her and offer her nothing.

He releases her head without pulling his cock free, leaving her throat to tense to stabilize herself as he continues to thrust, deep and purposeful, into her mouth. Rey gags when she tries to swallow around him. He's simply too big for that; his cock practically blocks her airway.

With both hands he reaches to smooth his palms over her chest.

"I decide what to do with this body," he tells her.

The soft, warm spread of his hands is almost reverent in how it explores her ribcage, her breasts, her collarbone. She hums around him, despite how overwhelmed she is. Then he pinches hard on both her nipples, and the sudden, sharp pain makes her cry out. The sound is muffled as his cockhead hits the back of her throat again, turns to a gurgling noise.

"These perfect tits."

This time he tugs at her nipples, and her hips arch off the floor as though she might be able to spare herself some of that tension, but he just keeps tugging even as her back bends, until a plea for mercy gets muffled by the thick cock in her mouth. He pulls back then, entirely.

"Say it," he tells her.

She's busy gasping for air. It's not a deliberate refusal, but he takes it for one. As her mouth opens, he seizes the opportunity to thrust in again. Saliva gatheres in her throat and she coughs around him until he pulls back again.

"Say it."

"Yours," she rasps, pupils wide with panic, head light from the lack of air. "It's yours."

"That's right." He caresses her cheek in the ghostly imitation of a lover. "And if I want to fuck your pretty mouth, or play with your tits, or make you come, it's for me to decide."

"Yes." Rey's agreement sounds more like encouragement. She shouldn't be so pliant to this, but there's a hunger buried beneath all this posturing, and she thrives. He wants her. He wants her so much that his will has crumbled, and he's taking her like an animal. The little orphan girl who'd been forgotten on Jakku preens under that attention. "Please."

He's gentler this time, his thumbs circling her nipples.

"Please what?"

Rey rubs her thighs together to alleviate the ache and she says, "I want to come."

She yelps as he slaps one of her breasts. Despite the sting, her cunt clenches, flutters, and she writhes. His head cocks slightly to the side, as though he were weighing that reaction, and he rubs her breast to soothe the hit.

"Your nipples are so stiff," he tells her. It sounds like he's considering something unexpected, and his vague frustration registers across the bond. He hadn't planned on her reaction. "Did you enjoy that?"

She presses her lips shut to bite down on her reply, but her grabs onto one of her nipples and twists until she gasps and thrashes and gives him what he wants, sputtering, "Yes! Yes, kriff, yes."

He goes easier on her again then, and she lets out her sight of relief. The steady circle of his fingertips around her nipples is worse, somehow; it teases the promise of what she really wants, the stimulation she _aches for._ She shudders.

"I can give you what you want," he says thoughtfully. "Make you come."

"Do it," she begs.

"I'll touch you as long as you keep sucking my cock." She makes a confused noise before he continues. Of course she'd suck him off. "Show me."

He grip his cock and nudges it against her lips. This time he doesn't fuck her mouth. Instead, he waits for her to lean up off the floor, straining her neck to suck him down. Somehow it opens up her throat, makes it easier to take him deeper, and her tongue is able to work against the top of his shaft as he bends over her, upside down.

Kylo groans low, pressing one hand to her abdomen as he thrusts forward gently.

"Good girl," he rumbles, and she redoubles her efforts.

For a moment it seems he has forgotten his promise, but he spreads his thighs wider, and his hands grip onto her thighs, spreading them open. He bends over her fully, and she can breathe better through her nose without his balls pressed to her face. She sucks air down, nostrils flaring. Relief floods her chest with the warm air, but she doesn't get long to appreciate it.

His lips find her clit, and her whole body shudders. Her head strains up, bringing him so far down in her throat that she's sure he'll be stuck somehow. With her nose buried in the thick thatch of pubic hair, she can't breathe again, but he starts to suck at her clit with too great a force and she whines loud and high around his cock.

But he pulls back a second later.

"Don't stop," he tells her, voice hoarse.

She reaches up to brace herself on his upper thighs, makes an affirmative noise, and starts bobbing again. It's a slow and uneven rhythm, but so is his as his tongue begins to explore her folds. Any time she starts to drift too lazily into the warm ocean of pleasure, he stops abruptly, or worse snaps his hips and wakes her up to her duties sucking him down.

Rey, though, does the same. Sometimes he stops when she hasn't, and she rocks her hips and whines like a needy child, squirms for attention.

It's a hard road, alternating between the focus needed to suck him off and the clear peace of mind she needs to full enjoy the satisfaction he provides her. Eventually she has to commit to the former and trust he'll follow through on the latter.

She laps and sucks and gags herself on his cock, swallowing around him and humming her satisfaction, her hunger, and as he loses himself, she can feel him start to nuzzle into her cunt instead of lapping at it, and she know she has him. His thrusts come unevenly, jerked and shallow, and his mouth pulls off of her cleanly, fully, as he lets out the final cry of his climax.

It's so deep in her throat that she chokes, lying flat as she is. He does not pull free, but thrusts through it as more salty cum spills past her lips. It overflows, not because there is so much, but because she cannot handle it, and it dribbles along the corner of her mouth, smeared onto her cheek by the press of his thigh there.

She keeps sucking, never daring to stop until he slides free with a wet pop. Then she swallows and reaches out to push his softening cock aside before it slaps her saliva against her face. She fails. Saliva drags a sticky line along her nose and cheek.

But before she can complain, he catches his breath, and he leans in to finish what he'd started, tongue probing at her cunt to spread the fresh surge of wet around her folds or drink it down. She sucks in a sharp breath and curls, trying to find some way to get her leg locked around his head. It doesn't work. The position just won't accommodate for it. All she can do is let him hold her, and hold her he does. He grabs onto her thighs to press them wide open, flat to the floor — lest she get any ideas, maybe.

The intensity of it and the sudden relief brings her to the brink quickly. Tears stick in her eyelashes as he forces her through her climax without letting up, but when he pulls back, he is muttering into her thigh — "Perfect. Perfect. You sound so good when you come. Taste so good, even better than I thought you would."

And in the fog of her climax, Rey thinks it's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to her. Kylo, he's not playing, not trying to get a rise out of her. He means every word, and slowly, as they both come down, he is gentler in how he worships her, kissing his way across every inch of her torso. Occasionally his teeth scrape or he sucks a red mark into her skin near her bony prominences, but only while he reiterates, " _Mine,"_ in that low voice.

She's drunk on it, too satisfied to offer complaint to the evidence he has left on her skin. Each bruise feels like a victory, proof that he doesn't want her to stop anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and let me know what you liked!


	12. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo continues to torment Rey and deny her the chance to climax during their Force bond affair until she promises to join him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter include: masturbation, voyeurism, strong dubcon, orgasm denial.

When the bond opens, Rey is in the fresher.

She jumps at the sound of tunneling space, does a half-turn to search Kylo out while her fingers work between her thighs, water cascading down the muscled planes of her back.

They're planetside again, and now that there are so few of them, some of Leia's more generous friends expressed willingness to put them up. Rey thinks it's more like 'now that Luke Skywalker has reappeared and no one told any of them he's dead.' Regardless, it's her first shot at some privacy in weeks, and she'd been eager to take advantage of it.

"Kriff," she mutters.

"Language." Kylo says quietly. The grinding of his teeth is loud by comparison. She can hear it in her own molars, in the way her jaw tenses. He is working at restraining himself from further reaction. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" She hasn't pulled her fingers back from her clit. Instead she picks up the pace. "You won't do it."

A shiver runs through her body despite the heat of the water and she reaches her other hand out to brace herself on the stall. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Kylo watching her with a mixture of fascination and hunger. She's not sure what he's more into — the fact that she's probably _not_ in a shower for him, yet covered in trickling water, or the fact that she's stark naked and circling her clit with more vigor.

"I'd prefer it was you," she tells him honestly as her shoulders hunch forward. Her breath comes heavier, and it gets harder to speak. "You could at least talk me through it."

"Turn around."

He erupts with that as though he'd simply been waiting for her permission. An absurd thought, in the scheme of how he has behaved towards her. They've been at this for weeks now, popping in and out of each other's lives, teasing just this side of satisfaction before he rudely pulls her away from it. It's maddening, and it's sucked away almost every moment she's had alone since the Battle of Crait.

She hasn't come for weeks.

As a result there's no need for anything expert or fancy to get her going now, but she does turn towards him, leaning back against the wall of the shower stall.

"Do you like to watch?" She asks it with genuine curiosity, searching his face as she reaches down with both hands to spread herself open for him. He approaches with all the slow grace of a cat. He stays just outside the spray when he kneels in front of her for a better look.

That's answer enough.

"I want to feel you," she says quietly as she presses two fingers inside of herself. Her inner walls clench around the intrusion, but she starts pumping right away just the same, and the gentle friction makes it easier, loosens her up. "Don't you want to be inside of me when I come?"

"I will be."

His answer confuses her. Brow furrowed, she nonetheless rubs the heel of her hand against her clit. She doesn't want to draw this out, not exactly, but she wants to savor it, and she can feel herself growing too sensitive from such a long drought. She's never had such a hard time pleasing herself, but the Resistance is tightknit, and every moment alone has been Kylo teasing her.

"Oh," she murmurs. "I'm right there."

Kylo advances too suddenly for her to react. He pulls her hand free and pins it against the wall, his dark eyes burning as they bore into her. He's still on his knees, and the water has now begun to drench him as well. It shouldn't, she knows, but this connection continues to grow over time, and she watches his hair turn damp in aghast silence for a moment before she tips her head back against the wall of the fresher and lets out a bodily sob, thrashing her hips forward.

"No," she insists. "No, when the water's off, I'll be out of time."

"You'll go back to them?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Good. I told you before, Rey; until you join me, you won't come. You belong to _me._ "

It's not fair, and it's not true, but at the present moment, with him fighting to restrain her when she tries to struggle away, none of that matters. He's going to prevent her from taking what she needs anyway. The timer on her fresher is ticking down.

"Please," she insists. "Please, I don't have long. I need it."

"Tell me where you are, Rey," he leans in, his tongue lapping lazily at her folds, too imprecise to help nudge her back towards the edge that she had so harshly and suddenly been yanked away from. "I'll find you."

"No."

She can't do that. As much as she feels like he's driving her out of her _mind,_ it isn't fair to the Resistance. She won't put them through that. She has enough sense still for that.

As though picking up on that resolve, he starts to suck at her clit, and she lets out another choked, mourning sound.

"No," she repeats. "No, no, stop, I can't— I can't."

She is not fool enough to believe he would follow through this time, to succumb to it. Instead Rey tries to twist her hips and squirm away, but he holds her steady and firm against his mouth. The pleasure mounts, tension creating heat in her abdomen, each flick of his tongue and gentle sucking effort rolling her back up that hill. It comes on too fast. For a moment, she's sure that she'll have it, that this time —

He pulls away. Rey lets out a feral growl, savage and animal in how it snarls at the unfairness of what he's done. Stinging tears finally break her tearline, blending with the water as they start down her flushed cheeks.

"Bastard."

"You know what I want, Rey." He laps slow the center line, and her whole body convulses in its desperation for touch.

The water sputters. The fresher starts to get cold, then tapers off into a trickle.

His lips poise near her clit, brushing it in between the hot huffs of breath as he says, "And I know what you want. It's not too late."

"Go to Hell."

The connection shuts and spares him the feeling of his tongue again, but as she presses her eyes shut and squats down, bent half over to give into the tears of her desperation, she hears a knock at the door.

"Rey?" It's Rose's voice. "Rey, did I hear the water shut off?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one today, I know, because I'm pretty tired and it's pretty straightforward. But let me know what you thought. Comments make it worth it to push through on long days like today!


	13. Sithspawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey confronts Kylo Ren on Moraband after she hears he's going there to find a Sith artifact, the darkstaff, which the Rammahgon suggests does something vague like 'create more sith.' They fight, and when Kylo Ren changes into something inhuman, the hunt begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the most "Dead Dove, Do Not Eat" chapter in this whole collection. Honestly don't feel bad if you choose to take a pass. This chapter has warnings for XENOPHILIA (alien parts), NON-CONSENSUAL SEX, PHYSICAL RESTRAINT, VAGUELY A/B/O ELEMENTS SUCH AS MATING/CLAIMING, OVIPOSITION, BODY HORROR, AND BREEDING. For real you might just want to skip this. There's nothing redeeming here.

Ben Solo was gone.

Even Kylo Ren was unrecognizable when she found him. Not at first, no, but well into their fight, as he pulled on the Dark Side, it became apparent the extent to which it had consumed him. Rey had him on the ropes, a series of slashes with the separated sides of her saber-staff to knock him back towards the edge of one of the red, sandy cliffs of Moraband.

He had come here searching for some ancient Sith artifact. That was what the intelligence had suggested, and why Rey had separated from the Resistance's push against the First Order in the war proper.

Kylo had always been obsessed with believing that the rest of the world was as damaged as he was. According to the Rammahgon, if the darkstaff really existed, by some vague definitions he might succeed in _making_ people like him. Monsters.

She knocked him to the ground, the bright white-blue light of one of her sabers hovering over his throat, her knee in his stomach, when she stopped. Breathing hard, she warned him, "It doesn't have to be this way. Forget the staff."

To the last, she couldn't give up on him. That was her critical mistake.

Kylo's eyes were golden. But not in a way that was warm and pure — they were cold and sick. She faltered slightly, seeing them. Worse, though, was that she could see dark veins pulsing beneath his skin, crawling up from the high collar of his robes.

"What —"

Rage had swallowed any warmth in his face, cut him off from her. Crashing through the bond they share, it threatened to drown her.

"I have already found it." He seethed. "You couldn't _save me,_ Rey."

Leia had tried to warn her. _He isn't yours to save,_ she'd said. Rey had gone charging off anyway. And here … Rey didn't hesitate any longer. She raised her lightsaber and readied to drive it down through his chest. Kark the bond and the potential risk it could pose to her. She had to save the galaxy from him, not fuss about her failures.

He managed to grab the hilt. Somehow. It took a moment for her mind to process it. His arm should not have been long enough to hold her saber at full distance without bringing it down into his chest, but she looked over, a chill falling over her, and found that his arm had grown longer, that the bones had broken and founded new joints. Where it emerged from the end of his sleeve, she could see his flesh tearing, separating at the seam of his muscles, bursting.

The ripping and cracking sounds, then, were not the fabric of his robes.

Peeling flesh revealed banded black muscle, hard and shining like black durasteel. Rey gritted her teeth and looked back down at him, eyes widening, but she didn't find Kylo to show any signs of pain. She could feel it screaming in him, a burning flare as his body ripped itself apart to make itself in new shape unlike anything she'd ever seen. But he showed no signs.

Instead, he smirked, a widening thing that takes up his whole mouth. Split his lips. No, _really_ split them. His mouth split at the seams as his teeth grew and his jaw cracked. When he spoke, it was as though it boomed from the back of his throat, or from his mind straight into hers.

**_"You told me I was a monster."_ **

He said it as though he blamed her for this transformation, but Rey could think only of saving him from it. She grunted with the effort as she tried to bring all of her weight down on her arm, to push the saber through his chest before he has warped beyond all recognition.

"I'm sorry, Ben," she told him. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

**_"Sorry? The Dark Side gives me strength."_ **

"It's killing you." She forced it out through gritted teeth. "Can't you feel it?"

 ** _"Through pain, I gain power."_** It is not the Sith code, but a bastardization of it. Rey knew this now. **_"Through power, victory."_**

She released him and staggered back onto her feet. There was no destroying him from this position, not now that he has — admittedly — this much power. It was as though he was feeding off the very planet itself, as if Moraband had created this creature in him. And it was not done.

The snap of bone and tear of flesh persisted as he bent and shuffled his way upright. She could not rightfully say ' _to his feet'_ for he hunched over entirely, legs bent and extended into a third joint like a gurreck's.

His spine bent and hunched, forcing his shoulders forward, though they seemed separate and set back from his collarbone now. His chest was broader, splitting the seams of his robes, shedding them. The same black sinew emerged from beneath shredding flesh there as on the rest of him as his arms grew spindly and disjointed, curling and gnarled like shining black tree branches.

She turned and bolted.

Behind her, she could hear Kylo — no, the creature that had swallowed him — say, **_"We're not done, Rey."_** But she would not look back to listen.

She slid down the mountainside without stopping to watch her footing, without daring to look back. The Force guided her footing, but the Light was far away, weak here on Moraband. It failed her, and she slipped, rolling forward the rest of the way, bruised and battered by the time she hit the canyon floor, lightsabers going dim.

No matter. The canyon was her only hope. Red sand trickled down the land spur behind her, but she only barely dusted herself off and clipped her lightsabers to her belt before she struck off in the dark labyrinth of the canyons deep on the Sith planet.

Her breath was the only sound. She had left him behind, maybe.

If she could get a way off this planet, perhaps find the ship he'd arrived in and leave him without it, destroy her own … then the Resistance might have a fighting chance to carpet bomb it to Hell. She stumbled slightly, but kept her pace up.

She reached up and wiped tears from her eyes with her dirty sleeve as she hastened through the canyon. He was gone. What she'd seen up on that plateau, there was no way he could come back from that. His body — She shuddered. It wasn't just alien, it was _wrong_ in every way, as though the Force were screaming at her that this creature ought not exist. This creature that she had once loved.

Alone now, she allowed herself to feel the grief, but her sobs could not cover the sounds of skittering. She glanced up quickly, scouring the shadows that surrounded her. This deep into the planet, almost no light penetrated through the atmosphere. It was cold and dark and miserable. The kind of place where hope died.

And something was there with her.

She rounded a corner and gasped and jumped as some skittering alien creature the size of a corellian dog went scurrying up into a cave. Just it, then. Rey shook her fear away and hastened onward.

 ** _"Rey,"_** said a voice. It was clear now that Kylo was speaking directly into her mind, not with that unhinged jaw of his. **_"I can feel your fear, Rey."_**

She hastened her pace, resolute in ignoring him. If she followed her feet, the Force would guide her to —

A cave.

The canyon dead-ended here, sprawling into a wet cave that was even colder than the rest of the canyons, dripping stalactites and slush. Reluctantly, with a hunched look over her shoulder, she entered, as if pulled by some unseen force. This had to be it. This had to be her way out.

He descended upon her immediately, hard limbs with muscle like chitin bearing down on her, knocking her to the ground. Rey grunted, spilling onto her hands and knees. She scrambled forward and he yanked her back, long arms gripping at her shoulder and elbow. The one on her elbow twisted up to cover her face and draw her back by it, neck bent backwards.

"Let … go of me …"

 ** _"You belong here with me,"_** He told her.

He had changed further. His shaggy dark hair still smoothed back away from his skull, but his eyes had turned all gold and slanted, and his jaw had widened considerably, teeth pronounced and sharpened and longer by inches. She cried out as they sank into her shoulder, jaw practically closing there the moment she tried to reach up to pull herself away from him.

His jaw clamped down, that corded black muscle showing through in the hollow of his cheeks and rippling as he crunched her clavicle, bringing his teeth together around her shoulder.

The pain only seemed to feed him and sap her own strength away.

**_"I will have you."_ **

"No," she replied dumbly, her voice distant with the dizziness of blood loss, warm and trickling down her arm.

But Kylo — no, the creature, would not have it. Its arms sprouted new arms, constantly shifting and evolving, and those new arms started tearing at her clothes while its knees bent at the back of hers to keep her pinned down.

 ** _"Mine."_** It repeated, over and over. She couldn't catch her breath to cry out.

A feral creature had replaced him, a monster of the Dark Side, and through the bond she had to it still — the bond that had belonged to Ben Solo, not this _thing_ — she could sense that it had only one purpose: to devour the Light in her.

The cave floor was cold with her clothing in tatters, but worse was the creature's warm body, burning at her back. He could not sustain this, surely. She just had to survive him. He would devour himself if he could not devour her.

It was an easy thought when he was stripping her, harder when she could feel the steely, twisted ridges of something hard rutting against her backside. Horny protrusions nudged at her flesh at the end of each upstroke, and when he pulled back, something slick and too hot to be the dripping water of the caves dribbled down over her. It dribbled and clung like honey on her skin.

**_"You've wanted this. I see your mind."_ **

"Fat chance," Rey growled, but the fluid made her skin hot, and her breath short. She felt dizzier by the moment, the tension in her jaw lessening. "What …"

**_"Don't you feel it?"_ **

The trouble was that she didn't know what she was feeling except that she firmly believed it didn't belong to her.

 ** _"Say it,"_** he told her. **_"Say it."_**

She wouldn't. She'd maintain that power over herself at least, no matter how her skin prickled and hummed where he touched her. Despite her resistance, she arched her body with his steady anticipatory rocking, helping him glide.

"You can't make me." She shivered, but held firm. "Not even with this."

He apparently wasn't too discouraged by her refusal, for she felt the stiff, almost spiny tip of something pressing against the slippery folds of her cunt. Rey pressed her eyes shut. He was burning hot, and when he thrust inside, it was graceless, every ridge and bump that spiralled down his considerable length stretching her in swift friction.

But it was as if her body was made to accommodate it. Whatever his discharge had done to prepare her made her whole body pulse with warmth and need around his thick appendage. It couldn't properly be called a cock, surely, for it was covered in what were nearly spines, and it wasn't fleshy at all. More like chitin or steel. Something alien, foreign.

He was right, on some level. She had imagined Ben Solo taking her in this position and a hundred other ways, but this _thing_ wasn't him. The feel of his appendage seated firmly inside of her only solidified it.

When it started to move, she felt almost guilty, for her whole body crackled like a livewire, coming alive with searing heat. She cried out for it, and the creature, this insectlike monstrosity of sithspawn, heaving and growling, began to undulate as it worked into her.

It held each of her limbs tight to its body, a bastardization of a lover's embrace, and though she wept for the wrongness of this final culmination of what she'd chased for so long, a tension built in her belly. The thing it had pressed inside of her seemed to swell and twitch inside of her, a pulsing despite its rigid structure, and each twitch made her cry out like she was made for it, as if it had connected her to it somehow.

 ** _"Say it,"_** the thing growled again over her.

It rocked with her, and she knew it too felt the way that need built in her. Though Rey fought against it, pleasure was spiraling towards some climax here. Worse than having to suffer it was being made to enjoy it and in her mind, in the furthest edges of her conscious, being aware that she did not want to. It felt like being trapped, possessed by animal impulse.

It shuddered then, jerking harder as it pumped into her. Straighter thrusts, abusing the same spot inside of her that made her muscles twist and tighten until she finally screamed out, " _Yes!"_

It wrung that orgasm out of her, paralyzing her in its grip so that it could drag it out until she was shuddering and thrashing and weeping, begging again ' _No, no, no'_ instead of her spontaneous cry of relief.

Only when she felt some terrible oozing bulbs push inside of her with a sick, squelching _pop!_ did she realize that the creature, that Kylo, had not continued for her sake, to drag out her climax to the point of pain. Dazed and spent and speechless on the floor of that cavern, she felt his fluids trickle out of her as he retreated.

Slowly, Rey reached between her thighs and felt something squirming in her abdomen. _Animal instinct,_ she realized dimly, a terrible chill settling over her now that his body had pulled away and she was bare in the cave. Yes, it was animal alright, and it had done just what the staff had promised: made more sithspawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.primalhardwere.com/product/OW
> 
> This is it. This is Alien Kylo's dick, if you're curious.


	14. Scavenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo get married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's kinktober was for public sex and formalwear! I've added a strong helping of awkward virgin Ben Solo to add more to it, but it should be a good cool-down from yesterday.

When Kylo had first suggested that their wedding would be a formal affair, necessitating formal attire per the political tradition, Rey had scoffed at him. She had spat and sneered and insisted that she didn't need to wear anything on her face just to be taken seriously. In other words, she ignored his every point about culture and decorum, learned from two decades of watching his mother, and she had ploughed on ahead as she always did.

Predictable, to a certain degree.

But as time ticked down, her refusal chafed at him more. Rey valued her dignity and feared losing herself to the pomp of political life. He couldn't blame her for that; however, he valued _power._ If they could not perform adequately, they would be replaced.

Hux watched eagerly around every corner, smacking his chops and waiting for a chance to overtake them. They had summoned a designer from Hapes, Vinta Yeur, to arrange the decor of the event on Coruscant, and too many of his generals sat around the table with him and with his bride listening to information on floral arrangements like it were a battle plan.

"There is, of course, also the matter of Her Highness' dress. I have a few ideas."

Predictably Rey snorted, but it was Hux who replied.

"No matter what you put her in, she'll never be anything more than a scavenger." Sneering, he insisted, "Let's not waste resources trying to put lipstick on a rancor."

"I'd like to see them," Rey said.

Every head in the room swiveled towards her but Kylo's. Instead his gaze flicked down to the table. He had felt it coming in the jolt of tension that followed Hux's declaration. He was slower, then, to regard her. The urge to reach for her, to offer some comfort, rose up in the back of his throat, but he resisted. It would only show weakness. They would be in private later.

"What?" Hux sputtered his disbelief.

"The designs. Vinta, may I?"

The Hapan woman does not dare look delighted. No Hapan ever would. But there is a knowing flick of her eyes towards Hux, and then she gets out of her seat to command Kylo's from him. The Supreme Leader of the First Order, asked to budge down — and Hux, beside him, the same. Each of them move down a seat so Vinta can tuck in next to Rey and go over a series of images with her that Kylo doesn't get to see.

Instead of looking for them, he watches the color leave Hux's face. He had invested so much in their combined failure that he had not stopped to consider that a powerful motivator like spite might belong to someone other than himself.

#

They were fitted separately. It had taken time for Rey to compromise with Vinta on a design, and he was sure that come the day, she would regret her choice. But the day came, and Rey was whisked away from him in the early hours of the morning, into the arms of a dozen attendants who were all ready and eager to tug at her, press and pull at her skin, and tell her how tired she looked.

The murderous intent was clear to him across their bond as she snapped at them, but she did not demand reprieve.

He didn't see her again until the ceremony. While she was prepared, plucked and primped and scrubbed until she no longer resembled the scavenger she had been, he was drawn into security briefings and the last tailoring on his robes was made.

The black tunic they wrapped him in was not armored, nor was it technically black. The high collar fanned out around his chin, a fine lining of silver embellishment made to it that was echoed in the clasps along the front closure, which opened to a second tunic beneath of dark red. The inner lining of his cape was of a similar deep red, like fresh wine or (he thought) fresh blood.

"One more thing," Vinta said as the orchestra took up its introduction. She settled a twisted crown of black durasteel and gold adornments atop his head.

"It is gaudy," Kylo said sourly.

"It makes you look rich." Vinta did not wait for his approval before stepping off the stool and turning him towards the mirror. "Wealth of our leadership means security of our government and safety for its people."

"They say that Hapans are wily. Good at manipulating people."

"They do say that," Vinta agreed.

Gruff and unsatisfied, Kylo grunted. He had no further arguments to pose against it, and so he only accepted it. There were more important matters to consider than this. It was only a few hours.

Vinta left him then to find her place in the audience, and Kylo left for the reception hall, flanked on all sides by stormtroopers. At the end of their long march through the Imperial Palace on Coruscant lay a long wait in the hall that opened onto the open-air ceremonial square. Beyond that room, Kylo could hear the music stirring. It sounded soft and a little sad.

But he could not go out until Rey arrived.

The stormtroopers never flinched in their poise, and neither did he. Stone-faced and unmoving, Kylo stood with his hands crossed in front of him, staring up at the massive doors that had once been a part of the Jedi temple that had scorned his grandfather.

Anakin Skywalker had been forced to marry in secret on Naboo. He was beholden to too many rules and strictures. Kylo had made himself the arbiter of those structures. He would not be similarly contained.

"Ben," came Rey's familiar voice from his side, and Kylo's attention flitted towards her. That stony expression melted away into something awed.

Rey's hair was pinned up, and the silver spikes of her crown broke up around the single braided bun at the crown of her head. Around the circlet, loose rings of braids in the Alderaanian style looped back towards the base of her neck where they joined and curled in, not a hair out of place.

Her face was painted so that her eyes looked larger, her lips stained dark, but what stood out most was the dress. It was mostly a thin lace of some sort, nearly transparent but for the fact that it had been layered over and over and over to thicken and shine like silver or steel around her bust and down to her knees. Beyond that point, and down her back, the thinnest layer of gossamer enshrouded her like some kind of astral figure.

She glowed.

"This isn't fair."

"What?" His brow furrowed, the focus drawn back into her expression by the power of her speech.

"You look much warmer than I do. No one warned me it would be _cold here."_

The huff of his breath went missed by the stormtroopers, but Rey recognized it for the laugh that it was. A smile started on her lips, made wider by the moment. He glanced away from her. Staring at Rey's smile was like looking directly into the sun. It burned away from him like any light seemed to, even here, even now.

"You're red." She sounded satisfied. "I guess Vinta did a good job. I don't look like just a _scavenger_ you picked up anymore."

She spoke the words with such disdain. A familiar disdain, really. Rey had always sought purpose, higher meaning. She had found that here, but … He had scorned her once for her small beginnings — no, more than once. Somehow, though, hearing it out of her mouth felt wrong.

"What?" She asked, spotting the creases in his forehead, the way his lips pursed.

Kylo tried to relax his expression, but the damage was done.

"You are not 'just' anything."

A powerful silence spilled between them, Rey's expression soft and far less casual. He could not examine it, would not meet her gaze, before the doors opened through the effort of two large beasts of burden from some Inner Rim planet, decorated with gaudy saddles.

The crowd that waited beyond hushed instead of cheering as Kylo offered Rey his arm.

#

They were married under the moon atop the old Jedi temple, their Imperial Palace. The ceremony was the simplest part. What followed were a series of courses in a dinner that stretched on late into the evening, made more fatiguing by the hundreds of politicians who each sought to take up their time.

Or it was going that way, at least. Kylo's patience wore thin within an hour.

"Come," he said in a hurry, grabbing Rey by the forearm and yanking her out of her chair. She staggered to her feet, coltish and wobbly on even the small heels that Vinta had risked putting her in. The glittering cloak around her bloomed like a cloud in their wake as he rushed her towards the building.

"What are you _doing?"_ She hissed, incredulous as he hauled his wife into a scullery closet off the main dining hall.

Truth be told, he didn't know, but —

He pinned her against the door, holding it closed, breathing hard as he loomed in her face. They had been sharing space these past weeks — paranoia, on his part. He did not want her plotting behind his back to ruin this, to renege on her promise. The result had put him on the lounge in his own quarters while Rey snored in the center of his bed, curled in on herself like a loth cat.

He had grown familiar with glimpses of her shoulders, her collarbone, the tanned span of her skin that showed when she stretched in her sleep shirt, or the way her nipples showed through the flimsy fabric sometimes. He had tried not to notice, but it was impossible to ignore.

This dress was worse than all of it. And every diplomat in attendance could see her in it too and imagine for themselves what the body of his wife looked like. _His._ He looked her over, eyes tracing the dip of her neckline. There was no hint of a shadow between her small breasts, but there was a vast expanse of freckled skin.

That was it. He'd thought she'd looked different with her face painted this way. They'd covered her freckles.

Kylo raised his hand and smeared his thumb against her cheek, trying to expose them under the paint and powder.

"Stop that!" Rey swatted his hands away. "What is this about?"

"You look…"

"Yes," she snarled. "I know. I've heard it plenty from General Hux. But I never pretended to be anything else, and I—"

He silenced her with his mouth on hers. The argument on the tip of Rey's tongue was lost in the cavern of his mouth as she melted into the kiss, moaning her satisfaction and gripping the front of his tunic. Contact made the bond between them bloom, as it always did. Her feelings poured off into him — frustration, shame, fear. And he knew that he fed into her in kind, for her breath hitched as she pulled back to search him.

"Ben…"

He hated the way they stared at her, and she sensed it.

Reluctantly he admitted, "I do not want to return."

They would be missed, of course. There were obligations to be seen to.

"What do you want?" Rey asked, as if none of those things had any worth at all.

His hands were still on her upper arms, pinning her, and his body had folded against hers as much as it could given the flat door behind her and their height disparity.

"My marriage rights."

Fear of rejection never occurred to him. He could sense why she had melted into him. In this they were the same.

"Here?" He opened his mouth to protest. Sensing it, she said quickly, "People could see. Or hear."

When she gave voice to these things, it was with a current running under her awareness. She wanted them to. This was more than his marriage rights; it was an offering. Assurance that they could see or hear and it would change nothing because she was his. Now, and always. A message, then. It made his blood pump hotter, hot enough to drown out the keen prickle of his fear to be made vulnerable by anyone sneaking up.

His mouth hung open, a croaking sound escaping his throat with the sudden awareness that he lacked every faculty to make this work. Rey, though, knew better than he did _how_ to get what they both wanted. She twisted in his grip, pressed her palms to the door and arched her back to press her hips up into his.

"Hurry," she told him.

Kylo was struck with the sudden nervousness that he was the only one between them who had shared this with no one else. With that possibility came the chance that she would know enough to mock him for his failures.

His fingers were frozen, hovering just above her shoulders.

With a huff, Rey grabbed for the long skirts of her gown and said again, "Do you need a starmap? It's really not that complicated."

Offense rose in his throat, but it did not bubble forth because he knew that he could not defend himself. Instead, he allowed Rey to grab one of his hands and guide it between her thighs as she bared the smooth, firm planes of her ass for him. Her underwear was a scrap of lace that covered nothing, unlike any she'd worn before, and his face grew redder to accept that Vinta had a part in that as well.

Thoughts of the Hapan coordinator evaporated quickly when his hands felt at the single scrap of cotton at the apex of her thighs, which was damp all the way through.

A rumble came from the back of his throat, and Rey answered it.

"I've wanted this." She hedged, then added, "That's why it's wet."

"Have you?" He sounded distantly curious, but it belied his hunger. The voracious need he felt to have her say it again, to tell him just how much.

"Yes."

"How long?"

"Since I came to you."

He groaned and pressed his mouth to her neck, bending over her. Working his mouth up her neck, he got stopped along the way by the heavy chain of her necklace, glinting with gemstones mined on all different planets throughout the galaxy. That necklace could have paid for a star destroyer, but it was better spent on her.

The position pressed him flush against her but for the way his arm lodged between them, nudging at the soft flesh of her center through her panties. He brought his other hand down then to start peeling them down and away. The fabric held her thighs together, but when he brought his fingers back up, he could feel her slick folds despite it. He would not need to spread her legs to lose himself in her.

 _"Ben,"_ she growled in pleasure. At least he hoped it was pleasure. "Please."

Yes, but please what? Or better, how?

His fingers fumbled around between them a moment, trying to make sense of the mound of flesh he explored without his eyes. He introduced his other hand, spreading her folds open, and with one finger he searched around to find her opening and stuffed his finger in roughly.

She grunted, and panic flared in his chest.

"Good," she told him, a heady reassurance. Then she moaned. "Your fingers are so big."

"Do you want more?"

She nodded greedily and he pressed a second inside of her, thrusting straight up into her at what the bond told him was a just barely uncomfortable angle. He started to pull back, and she grabbed his wrist.

"Don't stop." Looking over her shoulder, Rey met his eyes. "Please."

Nodding his understanding prompted her to guide his hand further between her thighs, working his fingers against the end of her slit, where a hardened little nub was nested in the slippery chaos of her cunt. She released him, and he continued searching for it.

Rey keened and slapped her hand on the door.

The sound made him freeze mid-rub, paralyzed with the awareness that her thudding hand might have drawn attention. The sound of voices crowded towards their hallway.

"Keep going," Rey whispered, quieter. She was braver than he.

"Stay quiet."

With his warning given, he started rubbing insistently against that spot again. Rey crooned, drawing a series of too-fast breaths to try and swallow her reactions. It was a bad idea to continue, he knew, but he was enraptured by the look on her face, the flush in her cheeks.

When the sound of whispers passed, Rey said, "I want you."

"You have me."

"No." She blinked at him through heavy lashes, spotted with artificial dew, and his ears warmed with a sudden understanding. "Your cock, Kylo."

He must have frozen for too long. Rey turned back around proper and hiked her dress up differently. Creases rumpled the front of it already, bending the fabric out of shape, crinkling it permanently for it was so fine and thin. Then she dropped onto her knees, allowing it to bloom around her, and she started opening the front of his tunic, and his pants below.

"Rey—"

He choked out her name, but she didn't stop. The warmth of her hand around his cock was blinding on its own, hotter than anything he'd felt, rougher than his own hand by far, calloused over hard work. Even despite the decorations and adornments and the wax used to make her shiny and hairless, she was still _Rey._

She gripped him firmly, not afraid to be rough with him, and started pumping his cock dry. He hissed, and she took the hint. Spitting in her hand, she took another go of it, and this time his eyes fluttered up in his head.

"So pretty," she told him. "You're so thick, Ben. Is this all for me?"

"Yes." By this point his voice was barely a rasp. "Yours. Please."

She gripped the base of his shaft and took the tip past her lips. Slick and wet and warm and all-encompassing, he nearly blew it there. His hips jerked, and he leaned forward to brace himself on the door.

But Rey, she only chuckled, and the vibrations rolled all the way up his cock, then crept up his spine to turn to prickling gooseflesh along his shoulders and hidden forearms.

He'd never felt anything like it, like her, but Rey took her task seriously. She bobbed and slurped at him, though she only ever took half of his cock into her mouth, her fist holding the rest and occasionally pumping him as she drew back.

Tension rippled through him, threatening to mount beyond the point of no return — and that was when she stopped, drew back to look up at him.

"Witch," he hissed.

She wiped spit and lipstick away from her mouth. He looked down and realized she had left his cock pink with it, and in the time it took him to notice, she had gotten back up and turned around. She used her wet, sloppy hand to gather up her skirts and press her ass out towards him again.

"Come on." With a striking pragmatism she said, "We have to hurry."

He lined himself up and sank into her then, a guttural groan slipping out of him that all but deafened him to her prolonged whine. Even sopping wet, she was tight as hell, strangling his cock with her inner walls as he sank in with one straight thrust, persistent in how he nudged his hips. There was a slight sting, like maybe she was too tight, but she had no intention of stopping him. He'd have felt it.

"So good," she praised. "Please. Move, please, I need it."

The steady rhythm that Kylo set was, frankly, too much for him. They could both feel it. Rey reached around on the third stroke to bring his hand around her hips, pulling him snug against her, shortening his thrusts and getting his fingers back at that firm spot of her cunt.

Briefly his fingers brushed against his shaft as it slid into her. They groaned together then.

"That's right," he told her. "You need me. _Me._ They have nothing to offer you. You are mine."

"Yours," she assurred, slurring her words as she nodded vigorously. "Yes, yours, please just keep — Keep — _Oh."_

For a moment he wasn't sure what _'oh'_ meant, but then he felt it. Convulsing muscles bearing down around him as her legs started to shake, and he scooped her up in his other arm to help her stay standing. His vision went white and he chased that feeling deep in her cunt, losing himself in her, spilling hot cum as he pulled back, dribbling it all over her underwear, her inner thighs, and even some on the skirts of her wedding gown.

"Kriff," he hissed quietly, his breath an uneven shudder.

But Rey, she moaned, reaching between her thighs to swipe at his cum, and she brought it to her lips to taste it like it were the best thing she'd had of all seven courses. After that, he couldn't bring himself to get a towel. He stayed hunched against her.

It wasn't the ideal wedding night, but well, their time together was still young. They would have the chance to sleep beside one another yet.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What?" His question didn't repel the idea; rather, he was confused. He couldn't count anything she'd done to wrong him. In fact, she was one of the few.

"I'm _not_ going to dress like this every time I want you to fuck me." She looked back at him as she started to pull up her underwear. "You're just going to have to get used to the other. But it was good, for once, to have people looking at me and see someone who was worth something."

"Rey," he said this very seriously. He stopped her in adjusting her dress and turned her chin up towards him. "You think I only wanted you because you were made to look like a politician?"

"That's why everyone wants me tonight."

She lacked the social grace for modesty, and he had to snort a breath out through his nose to keep from laughing at it.

"Not me." Her eyebrows went up, and he insisted, "I prefer you to all of this."

Then he reached out and helped her adjust her skirts. The stain would not come out. Worse, the rumpling of her skirts was obvious, as was the way he'd set her braids askew searching for leverage while she sucked his cock, and the smear of her makeup.

He tucked himself away and searched behind him for another exit.

"Only one way," Rey said, reading his thoughts.

Kylo sighed and gestured onward, saying, "Lead the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing says 'please make it through the end of Kinktober' like a comment!


	15. Show & Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Force bond connects them while Rey is in too compromised a position to speak, so she lets Kylo do the talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter include: dirty talk, mutual masturbation, dub con, come-marking, come-eating, and minor self-harm. 
> 
> Considerable attention is paid to body hair.

He almost doesn't believe it the first time he hears the sound of tunneling space again after they leave Crait. A not inconsiderable part of him can feel only bitterness towards her, and he sets his jaw, turning his head away from where he can feel her in his room. Speaking to her would only complicate this further. They'd said everything they could say.

She says nothing either, so he has made the right call. They will ignore one another until it has finished, and—

The emotional transference creeps in. A hint of panic, which draws begrudging protectiveness out of him, but beyond that … warmth spreads in his abdomen, and with it a slight sense of shame.

Slowly Kylo turns and spots her. Rey is strewn across his bed with her pants around her ankles. She has one hand shoved up her rumpled shirt, and the other down between her thighs, rubbing rhythmically. Uncannily, he can feel the movements of her fingers, though he knows it's not on his own anatomy. He doesn't _have_ that anatomy.

It is his surprise which finally pierces the veil of her arousal, for her eyes open then, her lips softly parted, and she flushes a darker red.

Her brow furrows, and she opens her mouth to speak, but she stops when she glances aside. Panic increases, as does some sense of paranoia, and —

"You're not alone," he recognizes with some curiosity as he studies the empty part of his room. Her ragged breathing fills his ears. Not alone, but not being actively watched either. No, she's afraid of being caught. "Dameron?"

She starts to pull her hand up, and his eyes dart down to the smooth, exposed flesh of her thighs.

"Let me," he tells her. But Rey shakes her head resolutely, jaw set. He rolls his eyes and turns his head briefly away, biting back his frustration. "You wouldn't be touching yourself with someone else around if you had another chance to do it." He approaches her, and Rey pulls her hand out of her shirt, closes her thighs to cover herself from him. She's flustered, still, feverish with the hunger that rolls off of her across space. "Don't stop on my account."

Skepticism colors her gaze as it narrows on him.

"I won't touch." He holds up his hands. "Not until you beg me to."

For a moment she hesitates, waffling over whether or not she wants to beleive him or, perhaps, whether she'll be able to ignore him and continue about her business. Rey's hips squirm, though, and that seems to be the deciding factor. The aching itch between her thighs is more pressing than dignity. She has always been unerringly practical.

And so her hand slides down her abdomen again, and her knees part, giving her enough room for her fingers to search out her wet center. Without seeing he knows how wet she is — she can feel it, and therefore he can as well. He draws in a heavy breath, and she lets her eyes drift shut. An effort to shut him out, maybe.

"Show me."

As surely as he can feel her arousal, so too can he feel the twinge of her annoyance.

"Please."

Her eyes open and slide towards him. That dark, hungry gaze drops the length of his body, and only when she has seen the effect she has on him, visible even through the thick black fabric of his pants, she starts to push her pants down the rest of the way.

Taking her movement for an invitation, he moves to sit at the edge of his bed, just beneath her feet. He keeps his promise. As surprised as he is that she would allow him to watch at all, he knows not to push his luck. So he doesn't reach for her, even as he considers the strong muscles of her legs bent and bare like this. Her tanned legs are not cleanly groomed like the women officers of the First Order, but covered in thick, dark hair.

Her hands settle on her knees and slide up her thighs, drawing his attention up with them. One goes up her shirt to continue what it had been doing, but she shifts and arches her back to get her shirt up too, exposing her muscled abdomen for him, and the modest swell of her tits as she pinches one rosy, puckered nipple.

Kylo palms himself through his pants as her other hand strokes gently at the mound of wiry hair above her pink, glistening slit. Before this he'd never seen a woman naked — in holovids, of course, but not firsthand. He struggles to call this 'in person.'

Connected as they are, Rey seems to notice the curiosity in how he scrutinizes her — responds to it, even, with heaving bosom and eyes glued to his face. She uses her fore and middle fingers to spread her folds open to him, baring herself completely to him.

As if begging for him to pass some judgment, she wets her lips and holds there. Both of them are trembling faintly.

"You're so wet, Rey." Arousal makes his voice low and rough. "Have you been thinking of me?"

A little whine sounds from the back of her throat, and Rey nods. He had known, of course. Felt it. Still, her affirmation pulses through him in a rippling wave of heat. One of her fingers dips down to the bud of her opening, trailing her slick back up towards the hard nub of her clit at the top.

"That's it. Show me how you touch yourself, imagining what I could do to you. I want to see every part of you, Rey." She circles her clit while he speaks, and he can see how those words make her pulse jump in her throat when he hazards a glance up. A fresh trickle of wetness drips down from her opening; some of it clings to her pubic hair, but the better part leaves a glistening trail down the curve of her ass. "Lift your legs so I can see more."

This time she doesn't hesitate on his demand. Rey's other hand abandons her breast and goes to the underside of her upper thigh, pulling one of her legs up to help her hips tilt. The grip spreads her only slightly, but enough that he can see the pucker of her ass.

Kylo groans this time, unfastening his pants.

"I want to feel you," he mumbles. It is all he has, to tell her what he would do given the chance. Perhaps with the right words he can convince her to beg him, to surrender and demand that he follow-through. At the very least it helps him control himself to externalize the urges in some way, even just verbally. "I want to rub my cock against you, Rey. You'd leave me soaking wet."

She tugs her lower lip between her teeth to bite down on a whimper. Around the same time, he gets his fist around his cock, and he's briefly sure that he will lose it right then. He squeezes tight and draws slow, calming breaths that expand his chest fully. Meanwhile, the way she works her clit grows more insistent.

She _needs this._ Feeds on the way he talks to her, the low rumble of his voice and how it prickles the back of her neck.

"Show me everything you want me to do."

He is careful not to touch her as he settles up in a kneeling position, cock out, knees nudging just beneath her hips so they're within inches of one another. If she doesn't keep her ass up like this, she'll be the one to touch him; and when he comes, she'll be the one who wears the stains of it.

The hold she has on her thigh grows tighter, the flesh bulging between the bruising grip of her own fingertips.

"Do you like it rough, Rey?" He twists his grip and squeezes as he pulls his hand upward. "Do you want me to leave bruises where I hold you? Bite those pretty nipples of yours until you scream and beg for me to touch you where you really need it?"

Her eyes flutter shut as he says it, unable to stay open anymore. Tension snaps through her muscles, coiling tighter and tighter.

"Stop."

Rey's fingers freeze in place and her eyes snap back open.

"It's not time for you to come yet." Her chest heaves with each breath, drawing his eyes to her breasts, but he licks his lips and explains, "I want to see you fuck yourself."

Slowly, she nods. Then she moves her fingers from her clit down to her opening.

"Fuck yourself the way I would fuck you. Start with just one finger, nice and slow." His hips have started to snap up against his hand, trying to hasten his own rhythm. It's like his cock is leading him now. In the past he has hated that feeling, the craving, the need. It has found its match here in this nowhere place with Rey. He lets it wash over him as she slides her finger all the way in to the knuckle, then starts thrusting at a steady rhythm. He tries to slow down, to match that rhythm. "So soft and wet and warm, and you're all mine." He can sense her dissatisfaction, so he reiterates — "Don't deny it. I know you think of me."

Rey glances away, hips squirming. She is struggling to keep her hips tilted up and to get her finger all the way in the way she wants. On each in-stroke, she hesitates, the muscles in her hand twitch like she's curling her finger.

"Another finger," he tells her. "Faster. I want to get you ready to take my cock."

It works to get her attention back. Her eyes travel back to his cock, consider its size. Whatever math she does comes up bad because she gulps. He sees the bob of swallowing in her throat. Part of him is satisfied to find her nervous about being able to take it, but the larger part of him doesn't want to risk running her off of it.

"Your cunt is so soft and so wet, Rey; you're going to take it so well. I want to feel how tight you are. How wet. How—"

His voice has grown ragged, but he is not so far gone that it can't occur to him to at least simulate this better now that it seems clear she won't cave. He leans over her slightly to reach his bed table and opens the draw to find lubricant. It's old and scarcely used, but he brings the bottle back with him and squeezes it generously over his cock.

It's too cold to feel like her, but as he starts to work himself again with his hand, the slick substance warms up and he can almost imagine what it might be like to be inside of her.

"So wet," he moans.

Rey has disregarded his orders. She stuffs a third finger inside herself and rocks her hips with every thrust. Her other hand releases her thigh, and he feels her legs settle over his, barely touching, but enough that he gasps with it. She digs her heels in beside his hips and arches up off the bed, pulling the pillow against her face and turning her head to smother a cry.

Their mutual stimulation feeds into one another. He can, strangely enough, feel the warm tingling of her fingers stretching her open just as well as he can feel how his fist squeezes his cock ruthlessly on every stroke. He abandons the movement of his fist and tries to instead hold it steady, thrusting up.

"Kriff." He tries to keep going, to talk to her, to share this with her. "That's it. Faster." He picks up his pace in turn. "When I get my hands on you, I'm going to fuck you until you can't move. Until you can't remember your name. I'm going to stretch you open on my cock and ruin you for any others. You're mine, Rey. Every part of you."

She reaches between them, still thrusting her fingers into her cunt over and over, and her other hand starts massaging her clit again. This almost overwhelms him, and Kylo realizes how quickly he's approaching his peak. He won't last.

"Want to taste you. Feel you." He's growing less coherent, slurred and needy. "Make you come on my cock again and again until it's all you know. Come on, Rey. Come on. I want to hear you. Let me see how you come just for me."

She holds his gaze through that, her mouth hanging open wider, a croaked sound slipping out of her throat as she tries to keep it down, stay silent. And then it strikes her. He can feel it as much as see it, the sudden rippling convulsion that consumes her whole body. It's a religious experience, to see her eyes go wide and her breathing stop and her muscles all clench at once. She grunts more than keens, something she tries very hard to mute, but then she is a mess of trembling, jellied limbs and every time her fingertip brushes her clit her whole body twitches with it, and she finally pulls her fingers free.

They shine with slick, and he opens his mouth, leaning forward to offer her a place to clean them off even as her fluids drip down her thighs and the curve of her ass, even as she makes a mess of the bedding anyway.

Rey shivers as she slides her fingers past his lips. All three of them. Her taste is there, her cum, and a tangy and nearly sour-sweet taste that feeds a part of him that has been starving for too long. He slurps at her fingers like he's trying to suck them off, his tongue probing between them, trying to lap of every bit as he continues to hump his hand, until, until —

With a terrible shuddering, his shoulders throw forward and he takes her fingers to the knuckle, lips stretched around them as ropy jets of cum spill over her bare abdomen. His climax strikes him in waves, and he keeps coming, though only the first burst reaches the bottom of her tits, the rest streaking near her belly button, and some of it clinging to the tangle of her pubic hair and dribbling over her swollen, soaked folds.

Slowly, she pulls her fingers free of his lips. His eyes are heavy, but he opens them to look at her anyway, and sees a darkness mirroring his own there, hunger that has only one equal. His teeth scrape as she drags them out.

He reaches one hand down to smear his cum across her belly as he says, "You're mine."

She is gone before he has finished the final word. His hand closes into a fist, traces of his salty spend stuck to it. The moment, he suspects, she had regathered her wits, she had doubled her efforts to keep him out. He drives that fist into the wall beside his bed.

It hurts. The wall, of course, is durasteel. Like the rest of the _Inimicus._ The sick crunch and the lasting pain tells him he may have broken something, but his only regret is that Rey is not still here to have felt it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! As always, follow scavengertrash on Tumblr & drop me an ask/message if you want to request anything specific.


	16. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey has a weird request; Ben tries to accommodate.
> 
> This exists in some nebulous space between canon and modern AU. Evidenced by the lack of detail towards setting because I couldn't decide which I wanted. Interpret as you prefer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO CONTENT WARNINGS. This chapter contains group sex between Rey, Finn, Poe, and Ben; Rey and Ben are in an established relationship. It contains bukkake, come marking, come eating, and hints of exhibitionism/voyeurism.

"No," said Ben firmly. "It's not happening."

 _"Why not?"_ Rey chases him down, stepping around as he looks away from her so she can force her way back in front of him, arms folded. "I've done everything you asked."

"You wanted to do those things."

"So?"

"I don't. There's a difference."

"It's not like they'd be touching you…"

"No," Ben conceded. "They'd be touching you. It's worse."

"Why?"

"I don't share." He snarled, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her back to a distance. "You're mine."

The set in her jaw told a different story, but she didn't argue his ownership over her. Not this time. He needed to feel that security, and he never really meant it like that in the first place. That Rey had been a slave scarcely occurred to him. No, he just needed to feel like she wasn't going to abandon him, find someone better and decide that he was a disappointment to her just as he'd been made to feel by others.

So with patience, Rey said, "Of course I'm yours."

"Then why do you want to—"

"Are you going to make me justify everything I ask to try with you?"

"If it involves other people, you bet I am."

"It …" Rey didn't want to have to explain _this_ particular desire. It made her feel filthy, but that was part of the point. She just knew already that the way Ben looked at her would change when he listened. The softness in his face would be there, and the understanding, and she didn't think she could stare that in the face without weeping for it. "… It feels like I deserve it."

"What?"

"Let me finish." She says it insistently. "But if you could see me like that, dirty and used, and you could still want me, then … I think it'd help. You don't think I deserve that. You think it can't touch me."

Ben set his jaw, glancing away, working through it. He huffed out a slow breath through his nose. The tempered frustration that said he knew he'd been beat. It was just too hard to argue with Rey acknowledging how much he cared for her, the pedestal she occupied in his mind.

She wanted, no _needed,_ to let him see her torn off that pedestal, ruined and debauched, and still believe all those things.

"Does it have to be them?"

"I don't want anyone else's cum near me." She had her no-nonsense voice on, and he didn't protest. He just nodded, reluctantly, like he'd expected her to say that.

"When?"

 

 _Soon_ was the answer. After Rey contacted Poe and Finn, they were quick to arrive. Poe looked a little too eager, slapping Ben in the chest and suggesting that maybe Rey wasn't quite satisfied.

It was a move that ended with Ben twisting Poe's arm behind his back and shoving him into the wall, much to Rey and Finn's immediate panic. They scrambled to separate the two and Finn, voice of reason that he was, muttered, "Maybe this isn't a great idea."

"It's going to be fine."

Said Rey, who thought everything was always going to be fine.

Once the two had calmed down, the awkward conversation around how to get started began. The trouble wasn't that Rey didn't find Poe or Finn attractive; it was simply that she hadn't thought about them in that way before. So opening up the usual avenues towards such intimate behaviors seemed … unfounded.

Sensing her unease, Ben slipped in. Literally. He stepped up to her and settled his hands on the hemline of her shirt and said, "I think you should get undressed."

Rey's eyes bugged slightly.

"Why?"

"Because I do not trust either of them to aim, and you won't let me get you new clothes."

A little flushed — mostly because he was right, even though Finn was shouting about his accuracy — Rey nodded and lifted her arms to allow him to help her strip off her shirt. Beneath, she wore only a plain and functional bralette. She was too small in the chest to need much else, but Finn and Poe's protesting quieted then.

As Ben reached around to unhook it, Poe leaned over to ask Finn, "Doesn't it kinda feel like we shouldn't be here for this?"

Ben glanced back at them with the skittish possessiveness of a child, as though he hoped his body might shield her from their view. Reaching up to touch the side of his face, Rey urged him to look back at her instead, a softness in her eyes.

"I'm yours."

He nodded and stepped around behind her. And there it was — Rey was bare-chested and shivering before her best friends. The chill had prickled her nipples already, pink nubs jutting out violently from her body. She tried not to feel embarrassed.

Ben's hands reached up from behind. He started kissing at her neck, his hands massaging her breasts. She leaned back into him, releasing a contented sigh, but he pinched down hard on her nipples in punishment for it. She jolted, sucking in a sharp breath.

"Tell them what you want," he said in that soft, rumbling voice.

She made a soft sound of acknowledgment and looked back at Finn and Poe, who admittedly looked a little lacking for direction. Rey extended her hands towards them.

"Help," she urged. Ben stopped pinching her nipples then, took instead to kneading her breasts, then smoothing his hands down to her waist.

They took her hands and she pulled them closer, guiding those hands to the front of her pants. Finn unbuttoned her — he'd done it before, out of necessity when she was unwell, not in any sexual context — and then together he and Poe slid her pants and underwear down to the ground.

She stepped out of them cautiously, pink in the face now that she was entirely bare and none of them were. They weren't looking at her nakedness, though, but at Ben behind her.

"Touch her," he rumbled, however disagreeably.

Finn was the one who took the lead, who slid his hand around the side of her neck and drew her in for a long, reassuring kiss.

"This stops whenever you want it to, alright?" He drew back to meet her gaze, and Rey nodded. She knew that she wouldn't want it to, but he wouldn't listen to anything less than understanding. "Good."

Her pulse throbbed between her thighs at his praise, or maybe it was a response to the fact that she could then feel Poe's hands exploring her tits, tugging at her nipples a little too hard. She grunted her approval of his roughness, and he grew bolder with it, leaning down to bite at one of them, all scraping teeth and hunger.

Ben slipped his fingers between her thighs from behind, feeling at the dampness of her cunt, teasing her entrance with just the tips of his thick fingers. A full moan spilled out of her chest as Finn moved to kiss at her neck.

Apparently satisfied by what he found, Ben pulled his hand back and clapped it on her ass. Rey jumped slightly.

"On your knees."

"Hey," Finn said. "Who do you think's in charge here?"

But Rey sank down all the same, looking up at them with wide eyes. They wouldn't understand that it was Ben's control over the situation that made her feel like _he_ was safe in this, that she wasn't pushing _him_ too far to ask this. She reached for the front of Finn's pants first in hopes of showing him that she was fine.

Ben said nothing to that point, but his hand found Rey's hair, encouraging her forward to kiss and nibble at Finn's abdomen as she opened his pants and fished out his half-hard cock. She ignored the flutter in her stomach that felt like she'd failed in someway to have not aroused him already — it was probably Ben's behavior more than anything else — and instead took him firmly in her fist and leaned in to start exploring his thick cock with her tongue.

Beside her, Poe was already unbuttoning as well.

"That's it," Poe commented with encouragement while he stroked himself. "Why don't you take him all the way in? I think you can."

Of course she could. Especially half-hard, Finn's cock was smaller than Ben's. But she took the praise of her efforts for how it was intended, and she leaned forward to suck the head of Finn's cock into her mouth. When she teased her tongue against his slit, she felt him shiver beneath her.

"Come here," Poe said. "Give me your hand."

And with only a little coaxing, he had taken her hand in his and guided it to his cock, closed her fingers around his shaft.

This was the part she hadn't anticipated. That paying attention to all these efforts might be difficult, that the timing would be uneven if she couldn't figure out how to multitask. Ben, though, had not moved into her field of view. She had no way of checking on him — if he was okay, if he was shutting down or closing off somehow, or if he was simply taking it in, deciding how he felt about it.

Her tension apparently translated to satisfaction for the other two, though. Her grip on Poe was tight as she began to pump him in her fist, and she bobbed further down on Finn's cock as it grew hard enough for her to take it to her throat. He was thick, stretching her lips wide around him, nearly scraping her teeth even with her jaw open as wide as she could, but he didn't go reach her throat. As best she could measure like this, Poe was in the middle both in length and girth. She popped off Finn's dick and redirected her attentions, keeping her hand pumping over the now-slick shaft.

Saliva dribbled down her chin, but she didn't hesitate to clean herself as she took Poe into her mouth. He moaned for her, thrusting up into her mouth faintly. He never reached for her hair, though, which meant it was still Ben's hand holding her there, guiding her on. She could feel him guiding her to take Poe deeper, deeper, deeper until she had to swallow around the head of his cock, for it had pushed just to the entrance of her throat, and Ben had held her there too long.

"Fuck, Rey," Poe sputtered out.

When Ben let up, she pulled back, gasping and staring up with wide dark eyes. She tried to turn her head, to search Ben out, but he gripped her hair tighter to keep her from seeing him.

Rey continued pumping them both with her hands, watching the way pleasure contorted Poe and Finn's expressions.

"Here," Finn reached out his hand in offering to take his cock from her, his other hand gesturing to Ben. "You should be—"

"No," he said.

Rey's thighs squeezed together, but panic twisted in her chest. Despite the arousal that came with her uncertainty related to his distance, she could not help but dread that it was a product of disgust at seeing her so eagerly swallowing her friends' cocks. Maybe her desires had backfired, and he really was just broken of his infatuation with Rey to see her debase herself like this.

Confusion writ across Finn's face too, and Rey was eager to stop him from overthinking it, from levying judgment against her relationship. She brought his cock and Poe's to her lips, letting them press together, letting her tongue lave against both at the same time, twisting between them.

Experimentally, she took both into her mouth at once as far as she could — which realistically was barely more than the head of either, but the attempt made Poe thrust a little further with eager appreciation. She took up pumping Finn's cock again to bob down all the Way on Poe's.

"Not gonna last," Poe muttered. "Damn."

"It's okay." Rey licked the length of him, her tongue tracing a thick vein on the underside of the shaft. "Give it to me. I want to be covered in your cum."

"Rey," Finn uttered, and she switched to slurping him down. Her neck twinged, and she felt Ben's hand lower to support it instead of tugging in her hair, cradling the back of her head gently as she tried to bop back and forth with more dexterity between swallowing Finn's cock all the way down and gagging herself on Poe's. Her throat convulsed with each probe of Poe's cock, too deep, and she kept her fists locked around each of them.

She could feel them tense beneath her grip, and she hummed her encouragement, a muffled whining instruction as Poe tumbled more steadily, more quickly to the edge.

Then, all at once, Ben yanked her back by the hair.

She cried out, a ragged sound of surprise mingled with excitement as pain bloomed across her scalp, a sharp but universal sting. Her fists tightened around Poe and Finn's cocks, btu stilled. Ben touched the side of her cheek and turned her face to the side, stepping around to flank her with Poe and then thrust suddenly into her mouth.

He tasted wonderful, leaking precum and rock hard. Relief struck her fast and hard, bringing tears to the corners of her eyes, burning suddenly. He couldn't be so displeased if he had grown this hard watching her, steering her.

"Oh man," Finn's voice wavered. Remembering herself, Rey started pumping her hands over the length of him and Poe in tandem, massaging and kneading as she went rather than keeping a firm, steady grip.

Poe grabbed onto her shoulder, and onto Finn, if the way Finn swayed was anything to go by.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," sputtered Poe. _"Rey."_

Ben pulled out of her mouth in time to turn it towards Poe as he came. Her lips parted, some of his spend splattered onto her tongue, but most of the warm fluid struck her cheek and chin. Poe milked the tip even as her hand steadied at the base, and droplets flecked her breast.

The sight of it had Ben going for her hair again, and she turned her gaze up towards him, straining to get her lips around the head of his cock again. She brought her second hand up to work Finn, leaving Poe to recover.

Finn grunted, an aching sort of whimper, and Rey shut her eyes as his fresh, hot climax spurted over her nose and cheek, and as he redirected his aim, onto her sternum. As she slid down Ben's cock, sucking him deep into her throat, she could taste some of Finn's cum had gone astray while he was adjusting his aim.

Her soaking cunt clenched around nothing, aching with neglect as her hands worked Finn all the way through his climax, milking him for all he was worth.

And then he was forgotten. It was her and Ben, with Rey covered in the cum of her friends, sticky and used up and slurping Ben's cock like her life depended on it. She moaned, grabbing his hips, gagging as she took him deep into her throat, her lips brushing the coarse, wiry hairs around the base. She never took him this deep. She could feel him solidly in her throat, but she wanted to show him how —

He yanked her back. Rey's eyes opened, panic writ across them.

"I can be good for you," she promised him. "So good, please, I want yours too."

"You are," Ben told her, smoothing her hair. His voice was husky, strained, raw. "You can have it, sweetheart."

He pumped himself once, twice, and he too came on her face, thick and sticky and dribbling down her cheek, streaking her chin and her lips. He squeezed the tip of his cock and rubbed the head through the mess Poe and Finn had made, then guided it back to her lips. She sucked him clean, the suction making him twitch and startled under her hands.

When she released him, Rey sunk down, falling onto her backside, knees out from under her, panting and overworked. She reached up to drag her fingertips through the dribbled streaks of cum on her chest, on her face, smearing it as though to savor it.

"No," Ben said softly.

He knelt beside her and leaned in, lapping Finn's cum off her chest, cleaning her of it.

"This doesn't touch you," he said as he made his way up to her neck.

He sucked a mixture of cum away from her jaw, though it was impossible then to say whose it was. His, maybe, or Poe's, or Finn's, or all three. It didn't stop him. Ben pressed open-mouthed kisses to her cheek, her chin, her mouth.

And he shared the taste with her, his tongue pressing inside, searching for hers. When he drew back, tears had slipped down her cheeks, joining the mixture of fluids. She felt clean despite it, relieved of some burden she'd been carrying around with her, and grateful. Unerringly grateful.

"Uh," Poe said. "I think we're gonna …"

"Unless you want us to stay," Finn contributed.

Rey laughed, turning her face to nudge her nose against Ben's cheek before drawing back, smiling at them.

"Thank you."

Neither of them really seemed to know what she was thanking them for, but they allowed Ben to show them out anyway once they were tucked away back into their pants. Rey had made her way into the bathroom, ready to rinse off when he came up behind her. His fingers slid down between the plush muscle of her ass and his finger probed at the flood of her folds.

"That's what I thought," he murmured against her ear. She didn't protest, but bent over the sink, letting out a groan as he slipped one finger inside of her. "You didn't think I'd let you go without."

She didn't feel like she had gone without at all. Not in the slightest, really, when he had done something this huge for her, and so she could not find words to answer him.

Ben, though, didn't need an answer. He knelt behind her and spread her legs, and feasted on her until she couldn't remember her name, coming up only for air and to tell her how beautiful she was, how she glowed, how sweet she tasted.

Rey wept through all of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment to let me know what you liked!


	17. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Made concubine to Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Rey seizes upon the one chance she has to have control over herself in the First Order when Hux comes by one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some more dead dove do not eat. 
> 
> This fic is for the kinktober prompt cuckolding/threesome, but it importantly also contains snuff (sex leading to/involving death) and ostensibly necrophilia. That happened, I guess. RIP Hux. This is your warning that the kinks mentioned here do mean that the fic contains a lot of Rey/Hux, and Kylo/Rey/Hux. There's lots of choking, too.
> 
> There's also a brief mention of what might qualify as watersports.

Kylo Ren has kept Rey on a very short leash since the Supremacy was destroyed. The spoils of war, or something. He keeps her in binders, he won't tell her where to find her lightsaber, he has his fill of her cunt whenever he wants, and worst of all he makes her sleep beside him on a bed that is leagues too soft for her back. After how she'd tried to flee to aid the Resistance, he scarcely lets her out of his sight, even doubting her when she insists she needs to use the 'fresher.

She's never been a prisoner to this degree for this length of time.

At first she had mourned the loss of the Battle of Crait, grieved the Resistance and her friends, but now she has moved past that into simple, restless frustration that Kylo hasn't moved beyond his tantrum yet.

The only time he leaves her alone is when he goes to the training room. Two hours in the morning every day, during which time he insists that she wait for him in this cell of hers. Even then she isn't truly alone — a droid watches her every move, presumably reporting back.

She has not spoken to anyone but him for months. The last time she tried was one of the first briefings he had taken her to, and it was not even Kylo who had struck her for the insolence of it. That honor belonged to Armitage Hux, the selfsame man who now stands in the doorway of Kylo's quarters while he is out, who looks down on Rey's bound, barely clothed form and tries to smother whatever natural, biological reaction he has to it.

"Unbelievable," he scowls, glancing away. He doesn't seem to be speaking to her — no, he doesn't seem like the sort of person who would think of the Supreme Leader's esteemed concubine and war bride as a person at all. Worse, she imagines, would have been before. A scavenger and an orphan. He'd have spat on her.

"Are you looking for Kylo?" she asks plainly.

She had been right. He looks offended that she has spoken at all.

"Well I'm certainly not here for the likes of you," he snarls.

Kylo Ren hates this man. Rey had learned that the very same day she'd learned the General's name, for he'd shouted it in the same breath that he threw Hux into a wall for laying a hand on her. Never mind, of course, that Kylo had laid plenty of hands on her. Hypocrisy is irrelevant to the matter at hand, which is that Kylo Ren hates this man, and he's standing here at his door, speaking with her at the only of time she has any say over what she does.

So she takes not even a second to reconsider before asking, "Why not?"

"What?"

His lips and brows pinch in a terribly unattractive way when he is confused, or perhaps when he's disdaining something, which seems like it must be all the time. Or maybe he's just not a very attractive man to begin with, General Hux, but Rey does not especially feel compelled to _want_ to have someone between her legs to think of it as a perfectly good idea.

"Kylo called you here, didn't he?"

He hesitates, searching for the trap as she lays it.

"This is a show of appreciation." This is the hard part to sell. It is near impossible, in truth, to find a single redeeming quality in Hux, but Rey lays it on thick as as she says, "For your invaluable insight."

It doesn't sound right, and they both know it. Kylo Ren has never appreciated anything in his life — not even once — and he does not in any way value Hux's insight. But Hux seems to be searching for a trap laid by _Ren_ rather than a trap laid by his whore, never quite looking at her, but through her.

"If you're going to come in, you should hurry." Rey step aside. "He'll be back soon, and he'll expect me to bathe before he returns."

Something about the insinuation has a visible heat creeping up under Hux's collar. This reaction to her insinuation of any _bodily fluids_ interfering with her later ability to service Kylo assures what she had already suspected — Hux has never been with a woman before in his life.

Perfect.

"Unless you'd rather I came with you to your quarters."

"No," Hux snaps it out quickly, eager to seize control of the situation back from the whore offering her hospitality. He glances either way in the hall, then steps inside quickly. "This will do just as well."

He makes no note of the droid near the couch, which has been attending to Rey, and which she is sure will be making a report to Kylo any moment. In fact, in surveying the quarters of his Supreme Leader, he seems to examine mostly the furniture with some mixture of rapture and envy. The space, which Rey discounted as indulgent and cheap, had once been occupied by Snoke, and it showed the signs. Kylo had replaced most of the items with something of a darker, more antique scheme, but plenty of the adornments cost more than what she imagined Hux earned in a year. No wonder he was drooling over them instead of her.

Rey slipped off her robe and approached him.

"Should I help you undress, General?"

It was the kind of deference that Kylo had to fight for, had to win from her after any amount of grappling, but she offered it pleasantly to this pasty man-child on the off-chance that Kylo had any sort of cameras fixed on her at this time. He'd be in the midst of his routine now, his anger high. She can feel the waves of it emanating across the bond, but it hasn't yet spiked.

"You have to ask?" Hux tries to sound like he knows what he's doing, but she can see the sweat beading on his forehead. "Hurry up."

She starts with his belt, but moves next to his surcoat, dropping it onto the floor. He cuffs her for that, and she bites down on her lower lip to swallow back her anger with it.

"Be _careful with that._ "

This is going to be more irritating than she'd previously believed. Pegging his inexperience had made her optimistic that he'd finish quickly and her point would be made, but it seemed he intended to make this some show of dominance over Kylo Ren's property. Ironic, then, that he should be so similar to Kylo in temperament.

She picks up his coat off the floor and slings it over the chaise, which is covered in far too many dark cushions. A glance at Hux tells her that he seems content with this — as content as he is likely to be, anyway — and she returns to the business of undressing him.

"Your skin is beautiful," she lies when she has his shirt open, though she doesn't take it off entirely, only smooths her palms over it. His skin is not beautiful. He could be a ghost, pale as he is, blue veins showing through thin skin. Paler even than Kylo.

"Are you always so talkative?" He sniffs. "I thought your job was rather straightforward."

"Kylo prefers it when I do." That, at least, is honest. He won't admit it, but he likes her to fight back, to make his business difficult. "But I don't have to."

"Then don't."

"Tell me what you prefer, General." She kisses the center of his chest. He smells clean, at least. This whole karking place is so squeaky clean as to be disgusting for how it belies the corruption that stews underneath. "I want to give you everything."

He squirms a little under her touch then, unused to the attention and unsure of what to demand now that he has the control. But only for a moment.

"On your knees," he tells her.

Rey sinks down and looks up at him with big, wide eyes, unfastening his pants. He's only half-hard when she grips him in her fist, still surprised by his fortunes and trying to feel out the mistake he is making. But Hux is a simple man of simple desires, and she can see that he would rather seize his opportunity to destroy something precious to Kylo Ren than actually examine the repercussions of the situation.

She spits in her open palm and works him with her fist until he stops her.

"Don't be obtuse. Use your mouth."

She doesn't point out that there isn't much point until he's at least aroused all the way, as much as she wants to. Instead she pushes her hand to the base of his cock and brings him past her lips. The moan she offers is gratuitous, as though she'd been starving for his cock all this time and sucking it has fulfilled all her wildest ambitions.

Hux is responsive to that. She'd almost expected him to doubt it, but he seems all too content to believe that he's the best thing she's ever tasted. His cock grows with the implicit praise of her hungry moans, finally stretching her lips. Even then he's still smaller than Kylo, but she pulls back and drags her tongue along his shaft languidly to lie some more.

"You're so much bigger than he is," she tells him. "And so hard for me. Are you going to fuck me with your big cock, General?"

"The Supreme Leader has given you a—" His breath hitches as she takes him back into her mouth, lips easily gliding down to the base of his cock. "A … very long leash, hasn't he?"

She swallows around him and his knees buckle, his hands going to find her shoulders. It's a wonder that Kylo hasn't killed him already, honestly. Speak of the devil … There's a sudden surge of something righteous on the other side of the bond and she dives in again to bring Hux's cock as far as into her throat as she can get it. His knees buckle again and he cries out. It's a soft noise in the back of his throat.

Honestly it's not the reward she wants for her spite, but she's nothing if not patient. And then she can sense Kylo's intent clear as day, a purpose and a mounting outrage.

"I'm beginning to think you wish he would join, General."

Immediately she can sense that she's right, and for a moment, mischief twinkles in her eyes. It's not evident if that's because he has been fixated on Kylo himself, or if it is because he wants to make Kylo watch. He grabs her and pulls her to her feet.

"I'm going to sit down."

He announces it, like somehow she wouldn't have been able to see him ease himself onto the chaise like he doesn't know how to move around with a karking erection. Rey watches him, then approaches, prowling over him while he reclines atop the cushions.

"I've wanted this," she lies.

"I thought I told you not to speak."

She can't stop the frown that creeps through, and somehow, Hux seems smugly satisfied to have finally warranted it. _Oh._ If it's pushing her into positions of discomfort he wants, he'll be disappointed. She won't reveal a thing, not when she wants to show Kylo how easy it is to get off on her own without him.

Grabbing Hux by the cock, she positions him over him and notches the head to her entrance. Then she guides his hands to her hips to hand control over to him — all the agency, none of the effort. It seems right up his alley, and she's right.

He's overeager. He tries to yank her down all at once, and she can feel something in her cunt tear on that sudden thrust. She cries out, and he pushes her up to try again, looking faintly frustrated with the fact that she hadn't been wet enough to facilitate the full length of him.

_What did he expect?_

One of his hands wanders up to close around her throat, and Rey lets out a grunt, finding a steady pace to rock against him. It was the sort of thing that would be welcome from Kylo, and her body answers with a fresh surge of slick that makes her movements easier, but her skin is cold, made colder by Hux's sneer.

"Are you enjoying this?" He asks, like she shouldn't be. Like he doesn't want her to be. "Does it get you off to be choked?"

She presses her eyes shut. He's not controlling how tight his hold is, just squeezing. Luckily his grip strength isn't what it could be. Rey nods in earnest, releasing a little whine with what breath she has.

"Please." She says. Kylo is close now, bearing down at the back of her mind. He must know that he's fucking her, and she's trying to draw it out, to keep Hux from coming too quickly. "Oh, please." The door of Kylo's quarters' slide open behind her. "You're so good. So much better."

In that moment, Rey stops choking. Hux's hand goes lax because through the Force, Kylo has reached out to strangle him instead. The walls of her cunt bear down around his cock, a sudden pulse of real, genuine excitement. Chafed and torn as she is, there's a distinct sting, but she is used to Kylo's thick cock stretching her open; she can take this.

She has the good sense to turn to look at him, but not to stop her movements as Hux gasps for air beneath her. The pace increases, as though she's afraid none of this will last long enough for her to get off, for her to find an ending.

Kylo's fury has his shoulders hunched, his gloved fingers curling and flexed tight, his hair all in his face. He has not bothered to find his tunic between the training room and returning here, and his lightsaber is still ignited. For a moment, Rey can feel him consider whether or not he's going to kill her too. When he looks all the part of the rabid animal like this, she nearly believes it will happen.

A part of her wants it.

"Bitch," whispers Hux in a croaking voice.

"Yes," she tells him. "I'm sure that's a great comfort to you now."

Kylo approaches behind her, reaches around Rey to cup her jaw, pulling to force her to look directly up at him, that he might glance between them. He has all the snarling, ragged self control she had expected, but somehow he manages to stop and ask, "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Hux's body relaxes all at once, breath suddenly rushing back into his lungs. He seizes with each cough, and he tries to scramble back only to discover that Rey has not lifted herself up, that there is no escaping where she has joined them.

"Supreme Leader, I—" He heaves out the words. "She tricked me."

"You beg for my forgiveness?"

Hux nods, though Rey can sense the loathing in him as he does. He thinks it's beneath him to grovel like this before Kylo Ren.

Rey rolls her hips even as Kylo's hand tightens on her jaw.

"And you?" His attention shifts back to her, searching her dark eyes for some answer.

"I think we should both be punished."

He's more furious with that answer, but behind her, she can feel Kylo unbuttoning his pants. Though Kylo releases her jaw, he does so only to grab the back of her neck and force her down towards Hux, tilting her pelvis up higher. She moans with the change of angle, with the way he steers her.

She can feel him shaking with rage and hurt and betrayal and it feels, for the first time, like she has a little power back. Like she has done something to make him feel the way he has made her feel all this time.

For a moment, at least.

But then he spreads her ass and spits on her puckered hole and she whimpers.

"I can't," she says. "You're too big."

Hux looks indignant about this, has the good sense to catch her lie. Behind her, he grabs for his cock, notches the head against her opening, and she trembles.

"If you hurt me," she raises her voice, "You won't be able to use me again until I've recovered."

"You should have thought of that before you let _him_ inside of you."

He pushes in anyway. She is moderately — _moderately —_ sticky with leftover lubricant from earlier that day and spit and slick that had responded to his arrival, smeared across her, but just as it had done little for Hux's entry, it does little for her now.

The long, shuddering cry she makes drowns out the pleasured sounds of both Hux and Kylo as her body clamps down around them. Kylo has heard, though. He reaches around her and closes his own fist around Hux's neck, closing his airway.

"Supreme Leader—"

The sound is pathetic and costs him the last of his air. A waste. Rey has tears in her eyes and still she can see that. Kylo takes the first thrust slowly, but when he starts to move, it is more brutal, more savage, each snap of his hips jostling her. She has become stretched for him over time, and so it is not as painful as it might have been months ago, but to have Hux inside of her as well when he forces his way in without preparing her makes it burn and ache.

Despite that, the pain and his possessiveness only feeds her arousal.

"Look," Kylo says, holding her by the hair with his other hand, keeping her faced ahead to watch as Hux's face colors. "Is this what you wanted?"

It almost was. It still nearly is.

Each thrust of Kylo's hips rocks her on Hux's cock, shifts at least the angle and the fit, and the two of them leave her feeling so full she could burst. The power high is still there, and she cannot deny that there is something to watching Hux sputter and choke beneath her. It gives her the illusion of power and control that she had wanted.

Kylo is right. She is responsible for this, even if she is not the one strangling him.

"You're going to kill him," she breathes as she teeters at the brink of climax.

"Yes." Kylo grunts out against her ear. "I am."

Hux's throat crunches under Kylo's grip as she tips over the edge with an explosive cry, tears slipping down her cheeks. Her whole body clenches, seizing up, jerking erratically as she watches Hux still beneath her.

Something panicked and urgent bubbles up in Rey's throat as she realizes he's still inside of her, with his heart stopping and his eyes taking on that emptiness and the life draining out of him. She tries to get up, but Kylo holds her down against Hux's slackening form. And Kylo, he keeps thrusting, holding her hair tight even as her efforts to turn away yank at her scalp and cross beyond stinging into burning.

Kylo finishes inside of her, sudden wetness spilling between her thighs, and she doesn't want to consider how much of it is Hux's cock slipping out and expelling anything. She knows plenty about how death works, enough that the feverish feeling under her skin only earns her disgust now in the wake of it.

For a moment they lay like that, the two of them on top of Hux's body, still connected. But slowly, gradually, Kylo pulls her back, lifts her onto her feet as he slips out and straightens to his. He pushes hair out of her face.

"Tell me you will never do that again."

He uses the voice he always uses when giving her instructions. The first time, they are instructions. Beyond that, a demand. Rey, trembling on her feet, too tired and sore and overwhelmed by it to have her senses, nods.

"Tell me," he repeats. This time is it a command.

"I … I won't."

"Why?"

"I'm yours," she tells him, dry-mouthed. "Only yours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you liked it. I was surprised how many people were down for xenomorph oviposition, honestly, so I'm willing to bet this has an audience too.


	18. Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren keeps Rey prisoner after Snoke is murdered aboard the Supremacy. The Resistance loses the Battle of Crait, and Rey is made to accept the consequences of her choice: if she will not join Kylo Ren at his side, then she will be his prisoner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains really heavy master/slave dynamics and non-con. It also involves some grooming over time, forced nudity, shibari bondage, exploration of sub-space, choking, and basically brainwashing. Good luck.
> 
> There's a lot going on here. I hope it's still cohesive.

When Rey woke up, the ruins of the Supremacy burned just beyond the viewport. The explosion of her lightsaber had left her dazed, even now, but still she asked in a croaking voice, "What happened to the fleet?"

"They are gone," Ben answered from somewhere she could not see.

The room came to her slowly. Duratseel and glass. Not a cell, at least not intended to that purpose. No, this was the bunk of a shuttle.

"All of them?"

"Every one."

She could feel his grief, and that her own was candle next to it, but compassion for his loss did nothing to dissuade her from her rage. Rey urged to her feet to get at him. Even unarmed, she could leave a mark, surely, but she found her wrists bound to the wall beside her bunk, connected by humming chains that were visible only when she strained against them. An electric pulse of some kind.

Still she snarled and fought against it.

"You have made your choice," he told her. "You turned against me."

"You _killed them!"_

"Retribution, earned before you ever knew them. You have nothing to mourn. You never really knew them."

"You're wrong." The world came into focus. He was seated on a bunk across from her, his hands folded between his knees. A black cape was hung across his shoulders, different than she had last seen him.

"Am I?" His nose twitched faintly as he glanced away from her. "Do you think they wondered what had become of you while they were burning?" Tears leaked out the corners of her eyes. "They didn't."

He sounded so certain. It sliced through her ribs, jabbing straight into her lungs to take the wind out of her. Rey lowered her chin, staring at the binder cuffs around her wrists.

"What do you want from me?"

"My offer has not changed." He must have been insane. "You will join me, or you will serve beneath me."

"I will _never_ join you."

"No?" He sighed through his nostrils. "The latter, then."

Ben got to his feet, hulking in how he stood over her. Just as in the throne room, he was made more imitating by the disparity in how she was prevented from standing. He had seemed so small that night in the hut with her, softer, but here … Being within the First Order gave him a fog of darkness around him that made him seem larger than life.

"Ben—"

"Do not use that name again." He warned her, turning on his heel to snarl it out. "I offered you the choice to be my equal. Instead, you come as a captive. You will call me Master. You will speak when I invite it. You will—"

"No. No, I'm not—"

When she wouldn't stop trying to speak over him, he hit her.

He'd never done it before. That was jarring to consider. Of all the cruel things he had exacted upon her in the interrogation room, on Starkiller, he'd never made contact. Thrown her into a tree, perhaps, but never successfully struck her.

They were both paralyzed by the reality of it for a moment. But Ben had his freedom. He left, and she sat alone with her thoughts.

 _Master_ implied that he would make her a slave, control her, even knowing where she had come from. If he intended it a punishment for refusing him, then he had picked the perfect one. He would either make her ruler of their galaxy beside him, or he would put her right back where she came from.

When they docked with another ship, Ben was not the one to take her from the bunk. A small platoon of stormtroopers did, five in all, and they escorted her an all sides to a cell. There, they ordered her to remove her clothes. When she refused, they didn't appear to know what to do, shuffling around, gaping at one another from behind white helmets.

They disappeared, and appeared less than an hour later.

"The Supreme Leader says you need to remove your clothes, or you'll be punished."

"The Supreme Leader can bite me."

They used their batons, and Rey used the Force to throw them out of her cell. No one tried to make her remove her clothes after that. Later, though, she came crawling to the edge of the cell insisting that she needed to use the refresher. She wasn't very well going to piss herself in the place where she would need to sleep.

"Bite me," replied the stormtrooper.

She made it another thirty minutes before she started stripping off her clothes. Disgusted with herself, Rey started with her boots, dropping them by the barrier closing her cell. When that didn't get anything done, she threw one boot against the barrier instead.

"I'm giving you what you want! Let me out!"

"The rest," said the trooper.

She pressed her lips together, glanced aside, and started on the rest. When all of her clothes were in a pile at the corner of her cell, when she was bare and her skin prickling with cold that only made her more desperate for the chance to relieve herself.

The troopers opened the cell and, flanking her again, led her out of the detention block bare.

"Wait," she stopped at the double doors that opened into what looked to be an open causeway in the star destroyer they'd docked in. "Where are you taking me?"

But two of them only pushed her forward, preventing her from stopping. This time she didn't dare use the Force; out here in the open, she might not have the protection of specific orders. She had to be smart.

They led her onward, past the stares of gawking officers and troopers alike. Rey folded her hands around her chest, shoulders hunching. She didn't like the feeling of being exposed and stared at. She didn't like having no way to protect herself.

It was getting harder to hold her bladder by the time they finally brought her in front of a door. They let her in with a code, and when the door rushed open, it revealed an expansive personal quarters filled with red and gold furniture. The kind of luxury that disgusted and fascinated her in equal measure.

"The refresher is that way," a stormtrooper indicated with his blaster.

Rey ran.

It, too, was expansive, and she marveled over it as she relieved herself, spent too much time rinsing her hands, marveling over the gratuitous stonework. When she emerged, the troopers were gone. They'd left without ever removing her binders, without ever bringing her new clothes, or food, or _anything._

Left her in this terrible, indulgent space. It stank of excess, of waste, and Rey hated every minute of it touching her skin. It was hours before she could bring herself to even sit down, and when she did, she only felt more disgusted with how soft it was.

Ben found her there. When he entered, she leapt to her feet, forgetting her own nakedness for the minute.

"You took my _clothes,"_ she hissed. "Do you know how long I've been waiting here?"

He did not answer her, but moved past her as if she was a ghost.

"Are you listening to me?"

He wasn't. But he looked at her, finally, as he removed his cape. As if he wanted to make it clear to her that he was refusing her, withholding even this from her.

"These were Snoke's quarters, weren't they?" A beat. "Answer me!"

He handed her his cape, but she could tell by the way he removed his belt that it was not for her to wear. No, this was so that he could give her a task. She threw it to the ground instead of clothing herself with it.

He folded his belt in two, grabbed her by the forearm, and twisted her away from him. Then he smacked the back of her bare thighs with the belt.

She wrenched her arm back, reached up and shoved him away from her by the face, howling her defense of herself and stumbling back onto the couch that she'd so detested. Worse was recognizing how good the soft, satin cushion felt against her welted thighs.

"You will call me 'Master,'" he said, slow enough that a child could understand. "And you will speak when I invite it."

"Don't do this," she said from her position on the couch, tears burning in her eyes as she looked up at him. "Please don't do this, Ben."

He reached for her foot, and she scrambled away, pushing the couch over in the effort to get off of it. It stood between them for a short time, only a moment, before he stepped over it and reached down to grab her by the hair, pulling her up by it.

"Say it."

"Ben—"

" _Say it."_

She forced her eyes shut against the stinging in her scalp. It was nothing beside the greater pain, the pain of seeing him like this.

"Master."

A breath shuddered out of him as if he couldn't quite believe she had done it. Honestly, she couldn't either. Tears crept down her face even as he released his grip on her hair and instead smoothed his hand against the side of her face. He turned her chin to look at him, but she saw nothing she wanted in his eyes. The softness didn't belong there.

It felt like it was supposed to give her some kind of relief. Instead, it was the beginning of something worse. He made her wash him that night and held her as he slept. She couldn't bring herself to, not when the bed was so uncomfortably plush that it felt like another world, not when she was unused to another person's breathing, let alone clinging.

The first time he was inside of her, they both wept. He'd believed that he could make her so desperate for his attention, so isolated, that she would desire it. But he'd been wrong, and they'd both been forced to grieve the loss of something.

He could not be made satisfied with that. Kylo Ren — as she knew now that she had to think of him even in her mind, for Ben Solo had nothing to do with this — was nothing if not hungry. And when he was not fed, he became brutal. Vicious.

She would not bow to him, not submit herself fully. She would perform the motions of only what he explicitly asked her, even let him bring her around the base naked or barely clothed, but she would never give a hair more, and she would fight him each time. Force him to push her violently into submission.

Not once had she asked for him. Not once.

She could feel him growing angrier and angrier with it. He would not be satisfied until she wanted him, until he could delude himself into believing that she was here willingly by some measure.

When he came back from training one day, he had a length of rope coiled up around his shoulder. It hung in multiple loops down to his hip. Rey greeted him as she always did, by kneeling on the floor in the center of the room, arms folded behind her back so as to push out her small chest. By then half the furniture had been replaced, the quarters only barely recognizable as once being Snoke's space.

Kylo walked around her, taking measure of her. Rey kept her eyes forward without reacting.

"Stay still," he told her, and he crouched to begin looping the ropes around her.

The rope felt soft on her skin, except when he pulled too quickly and it chafed. He wound knots up her arms, pinching them behind her back, then coiled a bodice around her breasts that squeezed them narrower. Looking down, Rey didn't think they looked particularly attractive like that, all squeezed out of shape, but then that probably wasn't the point. For his part, Kylo seemed thus far satisfied with his work, and it was less painful than the last thing he'd tried. That had to count for something.

He tugged on the length of spare rope as if it were a leash, testing it, and Rey found her entire center of balance go off, steered easily by it. A pit formed in her stomach, recognizing that she was thus completely controlled. It was not so unusual, though. A more literal form of circumstances she had been living in for weeks now.

"Bend forward," he told her. Rey leaned forward slightly, her arms jutting back. It was more of a hunch than anything. "All the way." His hand gripped the back of her head and he pushed her gently towards the floor. Her forehead touched, and she felt the squeeze of the ropes against her muscles. Not for the first time she wondered if he knew what he was doing.

"What if I need out, Master?" She asked it as she felt the ropes start to slide around her thighs, pinning her thighs around her back so she was forced to stay bent forward.

"Then you will ask me to let you out, and I will decide if you deserve it."

That didn't sound like a great idea.

When the ropes were tied off, she grunted faintly, her legs tingling with how tight they had become. Already she wanted them off. But he would certainly not hear her out yet. By attaching her ability to get out of this with her ability to satisfy him, he'd made the game clear. He wanted her to show that she wanted this, wanted him. To make him believe it.

She kept her mouth shut, even as he brought the rope up beneath the already tight binds around her breasts and then circled it around her throat. The banding was complex, but it wasn't too tight. Relief fluttered in her eyelids and she wet her lips.

She stayed like that, forehead pressed to the floor, while Kylo moved around the room behind her. She could not make out what was happening, but she heard the cranking of something metal and the slap of rope on the floor.

He wasn't done.

He could have had the decency to tie her up _last,_ but no, he'd wanted her to stew like this.

Instead, in her mind, she took those minutes to rank the parts of this ship from most to least valuable, if she were scrapping it. He finished before she got anywhere near the fuses.

With his task done, he picked her up like she was nothing. He didn't even use the Force. He just closed his fist around one of the ropes and lifted. Rey sucked in a breath as the ropes pinched around her airway while he gripped the one running along her spine.

He brought her to some kind of pulley contraption, which he hooked onto the ropes that were fixing her so she was suspended over the hard metal floor. It was a long drop, and trapped in her position as she was, surely falling would mean breaking something. She wondered if she broke her nose or her elbow or her clavicle if it would make him stop, make him treat her like a human being for a day or maybe a week.

There were two clips suspending her. One around the ropes that pinned her thighs, and one around the rope at the base of her neck. She could tilt slightly, and adjust where her weight was distributed through minor squirming, but as she learned quickly when he stepped back, neither position was ideal.

When she rocked forward, she could breathe again, but the ropes around her thighs pulled tighter and squeezed. They would bruise no matter what she did, but her circulation closed off. Leaning too far backwards to alleviate that, though, closed off her airway with the coil of rope that wound around her neck.

"Are you going to fuck me like this, Master?"

She asked it to prompt him, but Kylo kept his distance, eyes examining her in equal part to the complex network of ropes he'd set up. This must have taken him half a lifetime to figure out how to accomplish. That, or a very clear guidebook. He'd been planning it, then. Conspiring to this end, though she didn't see how he thought binding her would make her compliant.

"Not yet," he said. "I think you look better like this."

"Thank you, Master."

She said it without feeling, her voice dry. It wasn't real gratitude, only the imitation of it that was required to pass the test of receiving what he called compliments. It was hard to get even that much out while she was squirming, trying to find a perfect middle to teeter in.

He approached again then, rubbing his thumb into the sole of her foot. Ticklish, she jumped, throwing herself off balance and the rope tightened around her throat. An awful choking noise seized out of her throat as she failed to gulp down oxygen.

"Are you comfortable?"

She tried to shake her head, but couldn't. He held onto the clip that balanced her thighs, and it kept her from righting herself to free her throat.

"Do you wish I'd fuck you?"

Rey pressed her eyes closed. No. She never wished he would fuck her. It was too general a question. She masked her refusal to answer under her suffocation, and eventually, he released the clip. When she tipped forward again, she choked and gasped, relieved to have her airway open again. As blood flowed back into her head too, she realized how dazed and light-headed it had made her. Heat bloomed in her cheeks as blood returned to them.

He said nothing as his hands moved forward to toy at her compressed breasts, teasing and tugging at her nipples. She sucked in a breath, but kept her eyes shut and tried to hold still despite the urge to squirm and twitch with the slight sting. He liked playing with her nipples not because of anything he got out of it, but because it was the one thing he'd found to make her react. Tried and true, she could feel the cold brush of air against her dampening slit as moisture gathered at her entrance.

"It looks like you want it," he told her.

That was what he always tried to say. He always wanted to use her body's reactions against her, the stiffness of her nipples in the cold and because of his stimulation. The wetness between her thighs. He wouldn't fuck her, anymore, until she was wet, even if he had to bring her to climax with his mouth first.

"What's your name?"

He wanted her to speak, didn't want her to get away without talking anymore. He grabbed underneath her chin and made her look up at him. It worsened the pain in her thighs. She scrunched her nose briefly, twisting against the discomfort with what little wiggle room she had.

"Rey."

He slapped her across the face. She worked her jaw to try and get feeling back into it. The sting was worse, somehow. The sudden rush of blood, maybe. Regardless, she didn't particularly want to experience it again. So when he asked again, she said,

"I don't have one, Master."

He rubbed her cheek then.

"Good memory." Some part of her preened under his praise. She huffed out a strained breath, forced suddenly just to make sure she was still breathing at all. Balancing herself like this had her whole body tense. "Why is that?"

 _Because you're a dick,_ she thought.

He slapped her for that too. This time on the breast. She yelped loud. It was definitely, definitely a matter of blood flow that it hurt so much this time. She bit down hard on her lip, eyes closed, and she drew a series of slow breaths.

"Why don't you have a name?"

"Because I decided to be my master's fucktoy instead."

The more he could frame this as her choice, a punishment she had brought on herself, the happier he was. Maybe this would satisfy him. Again, once he had the answer he wanted, his touch turned soft. He massaged her breasts instead of striking her, and her cunt throbbed with it, as though it wanted the attention of the rest of her body. A fresh surge of slick trickled down her cunt, dripping across her folds.

Shame heated her cheeks. She tilted forward, a concerted effort to somehow prevent the prickling sensation of her slick dribbling down her, fighting against gravity to stop the feeling which made her inner walls twitch and pulse with anticipation.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm very uncomfortable, Master." She was hoarse, speaking around the fact that she was now choking in the ropes. "I'd like to be let down now, please."

"Do you think you deserve it?"

"Yes, Master."

"Why?"

She could not answer. The ropes had closed her windpipe and she was out of oxygen. The world was tunneling in the corners of her vision. For a moment, it sounded ideal. Fading out, losing consciousness. He'd either let her down, or he wouldn't notice, and she'd die, and she wouldn't have to be his slave any longer.

"That's what I thought." He traced soft patterns down her inner thigh, which tickled and made her clit pulse with need at the same time. She worried at her lip to ignore it, tried to squirm her hips to dissuade him, but all it did was choke the ropes tighter around her neck. A croaking noise slipped out of her. There, almost there. Good. This was —

He lifted her hips with his hands, bringing the pressure off her neck, and she let out a choked sound. Part of it, yes, was air rushing back into her lungs. Relief. Part of it was misery. He'd even taken that from her.

"Are you alright?"

She bit down on her lip and nodded fervently.

"What do you say?"

"Thank you, Master."

That didn't sound so bad. He had stopped her dying. She shouldn't be trying to kill herself anyway, she ought to be trying to get away still. If she was gone, hope really would be over. But her head was so cloudy, and her position so precarious, that it seemed impossible to consider that now.

"Look at what a mess you're making." His thumbs pressed against her folds and spread her open. A sudden rush of cold hit her skin, which was superheated by arousal, and she let out a choked sound. Another gush of wetness dribbled out of her opening, and followed gravity towards her clit. "So desperate to deny yourself this, but you're dripping wet."

"No," she mumbled. "That's not…"

"No? I'm imagining it?" He dragged his thumb through her arousal. "Then what is this?" He brought it around to her mouth, holding it in her face. "Tell me."

"It's…"

She couldn't breathe. Again. She opened her mouth, made a croaking sound. This time instead of helping her, he grabbed the back of her head and pushed down, hard. The ropes around her neck constricted, and she was put nearly upside down, staring down at the metal floor.

"Am I imagining that too?" On the ground beneath her was a few splattered droplets. Even through the haze, she recognized it must be from her cunt. She struggled, muscles clenching as she tried to right herself, to seek relief, to get more air. "Do not forget that your life is in my hands. You live only because I wish it. You feel pleasure only because I want it for you. But still you insist on this."

He was snarling now, spitting mad that she continued to refuse him, and for the life of her she could not remember why. Black ebbed at her vision. She opened her mouth in a series of silent gasps.

"Why do you insist on doing this to yourself?"

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. She couldn't take it. Not much longer, anyway. He righted her again, and the blood rushed back in. Another choking fit as she got used to oxygen coming back in. Her whole face prickled with the sudden return of blood, and the fog in her head grew worse.

It was a good question. He was right. The only thing stopping her was herself. He'd tried to give her a better life, offer her to this without the injury. She was trapped here anyway. She couldn't remember at all why she had stopped, and she felt a pang in her chest, sympathy for how distraught he sounded.

"Sorry," she choked out. "I'm … sorry, Master."

"For what?"

She didn't rightfully know. When she hesitated too long on the answer, though, he slapped her cunt. Her eyes snapped wide, suddenly aware of her body in a way she hadn't been for that moment, floating and dizzy and addled. The pain shot through her, but her lungs expelled a moan.

"Do you like when I punish you?" He asked, huskier. "Is that it?"

A good lie to tell himself, she thought, because it made sense. Yes. That was it. She liked this, that was why she kept coming back to it. So she nodded languorously.

"Yes, Master." Her thighs tightened, tried to push together against the sting of the ropes, but failed.

"What do you want? Ask. I'll take care of you."

He smoothed his hand over her ass where he could, stopping where the rope around her upper thighs interrupted him. The soothing warmth of his touch pierced the daze as she teetered back and forth, trying to distribute her weight.

"Touch me," she said, honest for the first time in her appeal.

Despite his eagerness, Kylo said, "I am touching you?"

"Not there." Rey was stubborn. "Touch my cunt."

"Is that how you ask?"

"Touch my cunt, Master, please." Her voice trembled. She could not articulate why or how but she knew that she needed it now, right now. Everything felt dire, exacerbated by the perpetual strain. "I want to come."

"Do you think I should let you? You haven't been very good."

"I will be," she promised. "I'll be so good. Please."

The words slurred around saliva for how hasty she was to spill them out. Tightened circulation had brought her down into the dark, desperate place that depended upon him. She had managed to stray away from it until now, but it was waiting for her, and it swallowed her up now. It promised her warmth and security if she would only just relax into it, and she did.

"Don't worry," he murmured. "I'll give you what you want."

His fingers found her cunt then, two pushing inside. A groan slipped out of him, and she squeezed him in kind, happy to hear how pleased she had made him.

"You're so wet," he started pumping his fingers in, driving the pads of his fingertips straight against the spot inside of her that made her toes curl. He'd worked hard to find it, to thrust pleasure upon her, and now it was overwhelming. "Is this all for me?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Rey chanted. "Yes, Master. All for you."

The thumb of his other hand came up to stimulate her clit, and the effort of it all tipped her up, threw her off balance, and the ropes tighened again around her neck. Her eyes rolled up in her head, but she couldn't bring herself to fight his touch. She was right there, close enough that she could almost, almost —

When she came, she could not cry out, but her inner walls spasmed around him, clenching before they began pulsing with the frenetic beat of her heart, while tension rippled through unmoving muscles, pulled them in unpleasant directions that left an ache behind as it tore through them. She did not care. Warmth followed, liquid and all-consuming, pure relief.

Immediately she felt him pull her back down, straining the ropes around her thighs, digging them in deeper so he could pull her hips towards him. He had hung her too high, she had to be tilted to reach his cock. The head was bare, nudging against her. She wasn't sure when he'd removed his clothes, but he had.

"Tell me you want this," he hissed.

"Please," she slurred out. "Please, yes, I want you to fuck me."

Her body would ache until he did. She knew very little in that moment, her thoughts feeling ephemeral and out of reach, but she knew that in her bones better than she knew which direction was really up.

When his cock slipped inside of her, for the first time it felt like reaching nirvana. Like something had slotted into place, and every nerve in her body was alive and waiting for it. Her hands strained for him behind her back despite the ache in her shoulders that waiting like this had caused. She wanted to grab him, hold him, rock with him, but all she could do was take the steady thrust of his hips and try to flex her thighs to keep blood going as he squeezed the ropes tighter each time he yanked her down onto him.

It didn't take him long to finish. Not with her so tight — he kept praising for that, whispering approval into her ear, calling her such a good girl for asking for what she wanted — and not when he'd been waiting so long for this.

The world came back into focus in pieces as he let her down, untying one loop at a time. Deep red marks chafed the skin, and beneath them were angry bruises that spread out, blotchy proof of this moment. Rey shivered in the cold, and this time, when he took her into his arms on their shared bed, she curled against him willingly. Instead of him wrapping around her, she curled against his chest like a happy lothcat, seeking approval desperate to feel his skin, to have him keep petting her hair.

He sensed every sore muscle in her body, ambiently reached to rub them, soothe them, and she let him despite the way her rope burns ached for it.

"Have you changed your mind?" he asked when she was still drunk and half-asleep.

"About what, Master?"

"Are you happy you're here, Rey?"

"Yes," she choked out. The tears that came were hard to explain, but they came quickly and rolled down to his chest off her cheeks. It was hard to put her finger on it. Hard to articulate how safe and warm and protected she'd felt as he'd taken her down from that tangle of ropes, how easy it was to forget that he'd been the one to put her there.

"And will you stay?"

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! This chapter was especially long and difficult for me to write because it feels like shibari requires so much set-up, so I'd love to know what you thought worked.


End file.
